


Mirror

by silmarilz1701



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Coffee, Found Family, Gen, Marvel Norse Lore, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Norse Religion & Lore, SHIELD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-06 19:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 26,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17351060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silmarilz1701/pseuds/silmarilz1701
Summary: Clint Barton. Spy, assassin, master archer. Hot mess. After the Battle of New York, Clint is forced to come to terms with the mind control Loki forced him into. The longer he's recovering, the clearer the memories get. With his emotional support dog Lucky, he lives in a Manhattan apartment trying to convince Director Fury to let him on missions again.Six months after the invasion, Clint takes a mission that his former handler Phil Coulson had been working on for years: capture and take in an 0-8-4 enhanced individual. The problem? Paige Wilson's got the same skill set as one Loki, God of Mischief. But Clint decides he needs this mission.Between trying to figure out what exactly Paige is, how she's going to fit into SHIELD, and wanting to be free from the memories that torment him, Clint finds a family beyond just Natasha Romanoff.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Former Pairings: 
> 
> Clint Barton/Bobbi Morse  
> Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff  
> Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff

_"In a mirror, darkly."_

* * *

 

**OCTOBER 2012**

* * *

 

"Aw, coffee, no!"

Clint Barton put his hands on his hips. His grey, baggy sweatpants were now soaked in black coffee and his white tank top felt damp as well. He jumped back, ripping the burning wet socks from his feet in an effort to save his skin while spitting more expletives.

He padded across the kitchen tile floor of his Manhattan apartment, muttering to himself. How was he supposed to catch the damn girl if he couldn't even make his morning pot of coffee. Flashes of images from Loki's control of his mind passed over him again. He grabbed the wall to steady himself. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to throw him off his guard.

The sound of claws on the tile floor came crashing towards him. Clint sunk down in his coffee-soaked clothes and let the yellow lab nuzzle him. "You're a good boy, Lucky." He scratched the dog's head.

Sometimes Clint wondered how Lucky managed to do everything he did with just one eye. He certainly didn't seem to need two working eyes to act as an emotional support animal. That being said, he couldn't take Lucky where he was going.

Clint took his phone from his pocket and dialed the name "She-Devil". He smirked to himself as he looked at the Caller ID before putting it against his ear. He continued to massage Lucky's ears as they sat against the wall near the door to his apartment right off the kitchen.

"Hey, Barbara." He smirked as he talked into the phone. Then his smirk dropped. "No, no, don't hang up the phone!" He rolled his eyes. "Bobbi. Fine. It was a joke. I see your humor hasn't improved in recent times… Yes I have a reason for this call. I'm going on mission - don't interrupt me - I need someone to watch Lucky… I'm cleared enough. Fury wants the 084 brought in and my contacts say she's in D.C. I wanted to head down there today…. Nat's barely better than I am! I'm not going to just hand this mission to her…" He held the phone from his ear and rolled his eyes down at Lucky. "Listen, are you going to come watch the apartment, or not?" He sighed. "Thanks, Bob. I'll see you in an couple hours."

As he hung up the phone, he looked down at the now-sleeping Lucky in his lap. He looked at the clock on the microwave nearby. 8:15. Nat was coming over any minute. Then he sprung up in alarm. "Coffee!"

Lucky startled as Clint pushed himself up off the floor. He grabbed a roll of paper towels before cursing. There were only four sheets left. Laying those four sheets on the spilled pot of coffee, he dug around in his sparse apartment for more. Finally he found them. He stripped off his shirt and pants so he stood only in his boxers, throwing them into his bedroom, and scooped up the mess. He was spitting curses at his soaked socks when he heard the door open behind him.

"You look busy," Natasha commented as she entered, tight jeans and black coat looking very put together. "Do you always dress like this for breakfast?"

"I know this looks bad-"

"Clint, you're always a mess. I'm not concerned," Natasha assured him as she locked the door behind her and placed her Starbucks venti on the counter. She unbuttoned her jacket and hung it beside the door. "I'm not concerned more than usual, at least."

He disappeared back into his bedroom and slipped into his own pair of black worn jeans and purple under armor shirt. As he sat on his bed and pulled on new socks, he watched Natasha finish picking up the last bits of spilled coffee.

"How'd your meeting with Fury go?" he asked quickly, shutting the door to his room behind him as he went back inside.

Natasha shrugged, unpacking breakfast sandwiches from her takeout bag and placing them on plates. "He said what we figured he would say. He wants me to go with you."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Of course he does."

"Can you blame him?" pointed out Natasha as she handed him his plate. She sat down at the glass table near the wall of windows right beside the open kitchen.

"The bastard isn't in my head any more," Clint protested as he put a new pot of coffee on. Then he joined her. "I'm fine."

Natasha looked at him skeptically. "Fine is not the word I would use."

"Oh? What word would you use then?" he countered.

She put her sandwich down and stared at him. "Coping."

Clint didn't respond right away. He felt Lucky brush up against his leg, and released the tension he'd been building up. He shrugged. "Did he order you to go with me?"

"No," replied Natasha, taking another bite nonchalantly.

He nodded. Standing up, he walked back into the small kitchen and poured a cup of coffee. His hand shook briefly as he poured in liquid into the cup, remembering the consistency of the blood he'd spilled for Loki. He looked over at his partner. "I need to do this, Nat."

"I know."

"Bobbi's going to watch Lucky, so you don't need to be here," he told her, sitting down across from her again with his coffee. "She's getting here in an hour or so."

Natasha smirked. "You two going to be a thing again?"

"Myself and that crazy woman? No way," he muttered into his drink. He slurped it. "Rumor has it she's running with that Hunter guy again."

"The merc?" Natasha smirked behind her own coffee. "Really?"

Clint shrugged. "I don't keep tabs on the love life of the other Level Eights."

"Doesn't Coulson want her on his new secret team?" Natasha asked.

With a chuckle, he took a last bite of his sandwich. "Ah the secret team we know nothing about officially. Yes that's what I heard."

Natasha stood and took her plate back into the kitchen. She rinsed it in the sink before putting it in Clint's already full dishwasher. "Do you ever run this?"

"Yes!" The skeptical look Natasha flashed him spoke volumes to whether she believed him. But he merely shrugged. "I was going to run it today." Clint stood and pushed in his chair. Carrying his own plate over he squished it into the last available spot in the dishwasher before getting it started.

Natasha flopped herself gracefully down onto a purple arm chair and flipped the TV on. But Clint brought over a large bulletin board instead. Several photos from street cameras of various cities were posted on it, along with newspaper clippings from Chicago, Nashville, and a few other cities about similar crimes. All of them were pretty thefts.

"You think you can bring her in?" Natasha asked after a minute of examining the board. "According to Fury, she's been hard to track."

"It's what I do, Nat," Clint pointed out. "I brought you in, didn't I?"

"How long are you giving yourself in DC?" She didn't dignify his bragging with a response.

He shrugged. "No more than three weeks, I hope. Fury has a furnished apartment near Agent 13's undercover operation."

"Well say hello to Steve for me," she told him, glancing more closely at the newspaper clippings. "Intel has her at what? Twenty years old?"

"Twenty-one is the latest guess. Her name is Paige Wilson, but she was in the foster system and that was a name they made up for her." Clint handed a photo from a file over to Natasha. "The person who found her as a baby said she was abandoned on the side of I-95 south of the Virginia border. That was 1997."

Natasha looked at it. The baby in the photo looked unremarkable. She slept peacefully, clothed in a Teletubby onesie. Her blonde hair curled on top her head. Natasha took the next photo. In this one, Paige seemed about eleven. Her golden blonde hair went down to her chest in small waves and her blue eyes looked sad. She had a black trash bag beside her.

"Do they still use trash bags in the foster system?" asked Natasha incredulously, glancing up at Clint who leaned against the arm of her chair sipping his coffee.

He nodded. "Yes." Clint handed over the last photo. "This was taken a year ago."

Natasha looked at it. Paige was twenty, and someone had taken her photo in a public park by accident. She nodded at Clint, watching him carefully. "You're prepared to deal with another individual with magic?"

Clint paused. "Like I said. I need to do this."

Natasha stood and nodded at him. It was time to leave. She got her coat from the hook near the door. "Good. Can't wait to meet her when you get back. Text me when you get down to D.C."

"Will do."

"Be careful, Barton." She nodded at him before closing the door behind herself.

"Always." He stood staring at the closed door. He felt Lucky brush up against his leg. With a smirk he glanced down at the lab. "What about pizza for lunch?"

Pizza always sounded good.


	2. Chapter Two

As he finished off his fifth slice of pizza, Clint heard a knock at his door. Lucky shot up, tail wagging incessantly. Clint pushed his chair out and went over to the door. Bobbi stood in the doorway as he opened it.

"Hey Clint," she chirped, glancing him up and down. Then her eyes lit up when she saw Lucky push his way past the man to get to her. She bent down. "Hey Lucky!"

Clint rolled his eyes and stood aside to let her enter. "I was surprised you were in the area."

"Fury has me between jobs," replied Bobbi simply as she stepped into his apartment. She took off her white coat and hung it beside the door. Somehow her outfit of a blue shirt and white jeans made her seem even taller than she already naturally stood. Her blonde hair went to her chest in waves. "For awhile he had me going after missing Chitauri artifacts." She turned to him as he walked back over to the open pizza box. "What about you? What's your mission?"

"Remember that girl Coulson was watching for years? The 0-8-4?" He folded the pizza box in half and stuffed it in the overflowing trash can. "Fury wants the loose ends tied up."

"You're going after the sorceress?" Bobbi watched him in careful surprise. "After Loki-"

"I'm fine," he insisted too quickly, spinning a purple pencil around in his fingers. But in a lapse of concentration, it flew from his fingers and fell to the floor. "I don't need you to argue with me more than Fury already has, Bobbi."

She shook her head. "I won't. We've spent enough time arguing." But Bobbi did reach down and pick up the purple pencil for him. "I won't shy away from calling you stupid, though."

"Hey!" Clint rolled his eyes.

Bobbi shook her head. "Why isn't Natasha going with you?"

"I work better alone on this type of job," argued Clint immediately. "This is going to take long hours of staking out DC. I don't need the risk of a partner tipping off the target."

She hummed in fake acceptance of his explanation. "So it isn't because you don't want to put up a front again."

"Bobbi you're a biologist not a psychologist. I get enough from Shield's doctors already." Standing up from the table, Clint grabbed an arrow from his open quiver on the nearby white couch and began to spin it. He watched grey clouds hinder the sunlight from the floor to ceiling windows at the side of his penthouse apartment. "I can handle magic. I've done the rodeo with it already. If anything, I'm more ready than anyone else to handle this target."

"It took me years to get over my last big job," Bobbi reminded him, sitting on the arm of the couch near Clint. "It's only been six months, Clint. And you lost someone in this fight, too."

"Oh please," Clint muttered, "you can drop the charade, Bobbi. I know Coulson's alive."

She stuttered. "What?"

"I know he's alive. I know you're going to start working with him soon, too," Clint said, turning to her. "Fury didn't have security put in firewalls quick enough to keep Natasha and me out of Coulson's resurrection files. We know he's back."

"Does Fury know that you know?"

Clint shrugged. "Maybe. Depends on what Nat told him today."

She raised an eyebrow and huffed. When Lucky came and nuzzled her hand, she gave a soft smile. "Well then."

"I'm going to bring this woman in one way or another," he muttered to himself.

Bobbi smirked. "Try not to turn her into too much of a pincushion."

Clint rolled his eyes and turned to face her. "Please, Bob. I'm a professional."

"A professional at making messes, maybe," countered the woman quickly.

"You're little better off."

They settled into a comfortable quiet. Bobbi got up from her spot on the arm of the couch and fed Lucky his food. Clint, for his part, stayed staring out at the ever darkening clouds. He could feel the touch of Loki's hand on his shoulder, and the heat of Loki's breath against his neck. Clint closed his eyes.

"Do you want me to take the trash out, or are you going to do it?" Bobbi interrupted later. "I just didn't know since you're mister bigshot Avenger now, if you do such things."

"Nat would argue that I didn't do such things even before I became an Avenger," Clint chipped in, turning from the windows. He found Bobbi standing with her arms folded across her chest. "What?"

"This mission is a bad idea, Clint."

"What happened to not arguing with me against it."

Bobbi sighed. She began poking around his empty cabinets. "Do you have any coffee?"

"There's one k-cup left for the Keurig machine that Hill gave everyone for Christmas last year," Clint told her. "Try the fourth cabinet."

"And a mug?"

Clint frowned. "Try the dishwasher?"

"Is it clean?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes."

"Well you never ran the dishwasher when we lived together," she reminded him quickly in defense. She opened the dishwasher and pulled out a black mug. As she got the Keurig working, she turned back to her ex. "This mission is a bad idea, Hawkeye."

"Now I know I'm in for a long argument," he muttered. "You called me Hawkeye."

Bobbi leaned against the countertop and folded her arms again. Lucky came and sat by her leg. Clint glared.

"What does the intel say about her using her powers?"

Getting up from the kitchen table, he retrieved a manila folder. Newspaper clippings, Shield reports, photographs, all spilled out from the sides. He laid it on the countertop across from Bobbi. "They seem to be triggered by instinct, at least to some degree. Agents who have been sent to test her indicate she's in moderate control, but not entirely."

"Could be dangerous."

"Every mission is dangerous."

Bobbi nodded, spinning around and grabbing her new mug of coffee. She took a sip. After a pause, she posed a different question. "How are the new Shield tech hearing aids holding up?"

Clint straightened up. "So far so good. They're completely waterproof which is useful."

"Apparently one of Coulson's team designed them."

"Who?"

"Agent Leopold Fitz."

Clint shrugged. "I've heard his name. Can't say I know his face."

Bobbi sighed. She watched Clint for awhile as he stared down at Lucky below him. With a glance at the clock, she nodded to herself ever so slightly. "When's your train down?"

"4:30."

"Better get going." The clock read  **3:56**.

Clint nodded. His stuff sat packed by the front door except for his arrow case and the intel folder. As he knelt down and gave Lucky a hug, Bobbi watched him with a smirk. He then rushed over to pack up his arrows. With the large metal case pushed into his duffle bag, he grabbed the file folder and put it in his black backpack.

"Thanks again, for watching the apartment."

"You owe me."

Clint let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. "I owe a lot of people." As he went out the door, he paused. "I forgot the-"

"Trash?" Bobbi laughed. "Go, Clint. I'll do it. Just like old times."

He nodded. Taking the elevator down to street level, Clint headed to the Amtrak station near his apartment. He already missed Lucky not ten feet from his door, but he had a mission. He couldn't bring his dog on this one.

All he had with him were two duffle bags and a backpack. One duffle bag for clothes and one for supplies, including weapons. He would keep that with him on the train. He hoped that by taking the evening train it would be somewhat empty.

It was.

He took his seat in business class and propped his feet up. A quick, disapproving glance from the train worker nearest him deterred his enthusiasm briefly. He removed his feet from the seat in front of him.

The trip to DC would about four hours. Clint tried to spend his time reviewing what information they had on Paige Wilson. There wasn't much. No blood samples had been collected yet, so they couldn't identify her as human or nonhuman. He wanted to see her in action before making the decision one way or the other himself. Pictures meant nothing.

Suddenly his cellphone buzzed. Steve Rogers. " **Heard you're coming in to DC tonight?"**

Clint picked it up and typed back. " **Yeah. I've got a mission down there."**

He set the phone back down and turned to the papers in front of him. Flipping through some stills of her using her magic, he tried to concentrate entirely on the mission. Only the mission.

Buzz. Clint checked his texts. It was Steve again. " **What time are you getting in?"**

" **Late."**  He replied back. " **I'm staying in a furnished apartment Fury keeps in your complex. If you've got food I'll swing by your place when I arrive."**

It didn't take long for him to reply. " **Sounds good. Tony keeps begging me to watch a show called Firefly. Do you know what it is?"**

Clint laughed to himself, smiling down at his phone. This time he picked the phone up completely, turning his attention from the mission reports. "Yeah, I do. It's a science fiction show. It's a good one. I've got the whole series on my phone. We can stream it." He set the phone back down and turned his attention, again, to the intel.

One of the woman's more dangerous abilities was her ability to use darkness to create illusions. It reminded Clint too much of Loki's mirror and illusion tricks for his liking. Still, he reminded himself that she was no Loki. There was no reason to believe she was a true hostile. None of her crimes had been violent thus far. If he had to guess, she'd had a rough time in the foster system and gotten out without support… something he knew all too well.

Buzz. Steve again. " **Great! See you later."**


	3. Chapter Three

When Clint got off the train at Union Station, he groaned as he saw people flooding into the station drenched from the rain, only a few smart ones with umbrellas. One of those, he was not. He pulled his black hood over his head, adjusted his grip on the duffel bags, and started towards the exit onto the streets of Washington, D.C. He should've expected rain in October.

He glanced at the large clock on the wall. 8:54. The train had taken longer than expected. Clint just hoped Steve stayed up this late because he was starving. As he walked out into the rain, he made a cursory glance of the nearby Columbus Circle. A few taxis lined up. He ran towards one.

"Hey!" Clint knocked on the window.

The taxi driver lowered the window. "Where are you going?"

Clint gave him the address as he tumbled into the back of the black cab. He tossed his bags into the seat next to him and flung the backpack off his back to the floor. As soon as he closed the door, the driver started away.

The glow of the streetlights, sometimes red, sometimes green, sometimes yellow, flashed off the pools of water on the ground in the darkness of night. Clint stayed quiet. A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders now that he was in a different city than New York. Most of the clean up from the Chitauri had ended a month ago, but whenever he saw the under construction Avengers Tower he felt sick to his stomach.

It had been easy during the battle. Focus on the mission. Just the mission. Capture Loki. They'd had to put a stop to his rampage. Killing had never been his favorite activity, despite being called an assassin by most in his business. But with Loki he'd been tempted.

_Maybe if I'd killed him, I'd sleep better,_  he mused to himself, watching the rain cascade in waves down the window of the taxi. Flashes of headlights as cars crossed in front at the light almost put him to sleep. He rarely slept anymore. At least not soundly. Sometimes he would get so tired that he'd sort of drift into unconsciousness that it was hard to wake from, but he didn't count that as sleep. It just made him feel more exhausted when he broke out of it.

He yawned. He had a mission. Focus on the mission. Just the mission. Capture Paige Wilson.

His phone buzzed. Steve Rogers. " **Hey are you almost here?"**

Clint nodded to himself. He replied. " **ETA five minutes. What's there to eat in your place?"**

After a moment, he got a response. " **There's a Subway right next door. We can grab sandwiches."**

" **You haven't eaten?"**  Clint raised an eyebrow in surprise as he waited for a reply.

Buzz. " **Figured I'd wait for you."**

Clint shook his head with a smile. Trust Steve to be like that. He'd been down to D.C. and seen Steve multiple times with Natasha since the Battle of New York. They'd been debriefed at the Triskelion over and over. Clint held a tremendous amount of respect for Steve. " **Thanks. Almost there. I'll drop my crap off in my apartment and then find you."**

A minute later, the taxi pulled up to the street corner where Steve's building stood. Clint paid before barreling out of the car and rushing into the small main lobby. He fished through his pockets and pulled out the key with the apartment number on it that Fury had given him via Natasha. Apartment 203. He found the stairs and took them slowly, his black converse squelching on the wood from the deluge outside.

Finally he found his door. Heading inside, he flipped on the light in the hall and breathed a sigh of relief. He preferred trains to planes, but neither one was particularly comfortable. He dropped his key into a small plate that sat on a counter near the door. The apartment was furnished in a casual traditional manner. It felt very different from his modern art deco Manhattan penthouse. He liked it.

Clint unpacked his suit. He'd recently gotten Fury to okay the purple in place of the red material, much to his enjoyment. Red was Natasha's color. He didn't want it. He wanted purple. Purple had always been his color when he and his brother had been in the circus and he'd learned to be the World's Greatest Marksman. It felt good to have it back with him.

Next came the bow case. He'd brought his collapsible recurve bow, the most practical for a clandestine mission like his now. Next came the guns. He put one in the drawstring backpack he'd packed, along with a knife. A second knife went into his pocket alongside his wallet. He slipped out of his hoodie and into a black leather jacket over his purple shirt. With a nod to himself in the mirror, he picked up his phone.

" **Meet in the lobby?"**  he texted Steve. Clint didn't wait for a reply before taking the stairs quickly back down.

It didn't take long before he caught sight of Steve. The super soldier nodded at him with a smile, his unmarked baseball cap looking out of place indoors.

"Hey man," Clint grinned. "What's up?"

They shook hands. Steve sighed and looked around. "Pretty hungry. You?"

"Starved."

"Cool. Like I said, Subway's right next door." Steve led the way out of the apartment complex and they hurried to the right. The rain still came down in sheets.

As they rolled into the Subway, Steve took off his hat and placed it on a table. There weren't any other customers, but Clint supposed it was habit. After getting their sandwiches, the men scooted across from each other into a booth. Clint scarfed down his footlong quickly, and chewed on a chocolate chip cookie as he waited for Steve to finish his. They didn't do much talking. A public subway, empty though it was, felt too exposed for conversation.

"We should head back to the apartment I'm using," Clint suggested after a couple minutes of silent eating. His leg shook up and down where he sat. The antsy feelings before a mission had started to creep in. "You can take a look at why I'm down here."

Steve nodded. "Definitely."

When they walked outside, they were pleasantly surprised to find the rain had stopped. Not that the quick walk to the left took long, but no rain was a definite plus in Clint's estimation at least. As they approached the apartment complex, he stopped in his tracks.

Stuttgart. Why did the buildings have to look so similar to Stuttgart, Germany. His breathing sped up. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the entrance. Where was Lucky when he needed him?

"Clint?" Steve turned back and looked at him in concern and confusion. He furrowed his brow. "You okay?"

Clint forced his breathing to slow. With a quick grin and a light laugh, he nodded and hurried past Steve, patting the man on the back. "Course, man! Just admiring the old buildings down here in D.C."

Steve eyed him carefully, not buying his explanation. But he didn't say anything. Clint led the way up the wooden stairs to the second floor. With a flash of his key, he unlocked the apartment door and led the way inside.

"So Fury keeps this as a safe house?" Steve asked, taking off his jacket and cap.

"One of several in close proximity to the Triskelion." With a nod, Clint retrieved the intel on Paige and gestured for Steve to sit on the armchair adjacent to the couch. He spread the photos and shield files out on the coffee table. He looked at the ceiling and spoke. "Blackout mode, authorization Barton-7-5."

A female voice replied from a hidden security system. "Blackout Mode Enabled." The windows became covered in a black tint, and the doors locked automatically with a quick 'click' for good measure.

Steve watched in surprise. "My apartment doesn't do that."

With a laugh, Clint shook his head. "Probably not. It's a standard security setting for most Shield safe houses. Blackout mode ensures we won't be monitored, even by Shield. Only level seven agents and above have access to Blackout Mode for that reason." He stood from the couch. "Coffee?"

"Do you have tea?"

Clint shot him a look of surprise. "Tea?"

Steve scoffed. "I'll take that as a no."

"I don't know. I don't stock these safe houses." He went into the kitchen and rummaged through the sparse pickings in the cabinets. He grinned when he found coffee for the coffee maker. After putting that in to start working, he messed around until he found the tea bags. "We've got chamomile, peppermint, and something called sleepy time."

"Peppermint, please," Steve called from the other room where he sat reviewing the mission files.

As he microwaved a black mug of water and waited for the coffee, he went back into the living room. "That's my mission."

"Paige Wilson. An enhanced?" Steve sighed. "More of those keep popping up."

"It all started with you," he pointed out. Then Clint shrugged. "We don't know though. There are some in Shield that think she's alien, not enhanced."

"Why?"

"Her power set, for one." Clint dug through the file and pulled out a paperclipped group of photos. They showed the blonde young woman using her powers. "She has magic, like-"

"Loki," muttered Steve, interrupting him. Then he glanced over at Clint. "Fury chose you for this mission? Even after-"

"This is my job," said Clint defensively. He turned and went back into the kitchen as the microwave beeped, signalling that Steve's tea was ready. He pulled the mug out of the machine and placed the tea bag in. "Here." He handed it over. Then he picked up another picture. He stared at it for a while. "She's just a kid, really."

"How old?"

"Twenty-one." Clint didn't remove his eyes from the photo. The target - Paige - she had blonde hair and blue eyes. A weird facial perfection that reminded him of Thor. Most humans had defects of some sort, but her face was just nice. He didn't like it. It unnerved him. Finally he looked back at Steve with a smirk. "You haven't seen her, have you?"

"I wasn't exactly looking," countered the other man. "But no. Not that I remember."

Clint scoffed. "Course not. That would make this too easy." He paced for a moment. "My source down here said she frequents the Smithsonian, specifically a food truck line about half way down the National Mall, on 14th Street."

"Across from the Washington Monument?"

He nodded. "It's a busy street. Few cameras. Lots of food and people. A good choice for someone who needs food while trying to lay low." Heading back into the kitchen, he picked up the glass coffee pot and sniffed the coffee. He closed his eyes. "Just what I needed."

Steve watched him with his eyebrows raised as he saw Clint take a gulp of black coffee straight from the coffee pot. He didn't say anything.

Clint paused and looked at the pot. "What?"

Steve hid a smirk behind his hand and shook his head. "Nothing." He turned back to the files. He pulled one out that had her medical history. "So we have records for her from 1991 to 2009?"

"Yeah," Clint sat on the couch and put his feet up on the other end of the coffee table. He grabbed another photo, this one of her in the middle of a pickpocketing job. "She went off grid at 18, when she aged out of the foster care system. She's popped up in several cities across the US, coinciding with car thefts and reported findings of the same stolen cars."

"So she doesn't try to keep what she steals?"

Clint shrugged, taking a large drink of coffee. "Not the big stuff, like a car. That would be hard to hide and keep off cameras. It's too noticeable. I'm not surprised she dumps them fairly quickly."

"So what's her motivation?" Steve looked at one of the photos.

Clint frowned down at the photo he held. "That's what I intend to ask her."


	4. Chapter Four

He got up at 5:00 am. Or, he woke up at 5:00. It took at least twenty minutes of glaring at the ceiling and wall clock while snuggling into the comforter of his bed before Clint finally forced himself to get up. After a shower, he slipped into grey jeans, a red tee shirt, and his black leather jacket with extra large pockets for his gun.

When he looked out the window he saw the streets still cloaked in darkness. With a huff of exhaustion, he put the coffee pot back in the machine and started brewing a fresh batch for that morning. As it got to work, he took another few minutes to examine the intel he had.

Clint didn't know how long he had spent staring at the same picture over the past few days. It was the most recent one, taken a week before by his contact down here in D.C. assigned to tail her. She sat at a cafe table on the sidewalk, sipping a warm drink of some kind. She wore a ragged, slouchy knit grey beanie hat, a common tell in many of her more recent photos. According to a note with the photo, the piece of paper she stared at on the table contained a map of D.C. Highlighted was Anacostia and Ivy City.

"What is your motivation," Clint murmured. When he noticed the coffee had finished, he grabbed a travel mug and poured as much as he could into it before downing half of what was left. He spent a bit of time picking up the intelligence folder and hiding it in his clothes. Then he downed the rest of the coffee pot's coffee.

The time read  **6:22.**  He checked to make sure he had his gun, wallet, Shield ID, and pocket knife. Finally he picked up the photo of his target and folded it, slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans. Day one of his mission. He had to follow his target-

_"What did it show you, Agent Barton?"_

_"My next target."_

_"Tell me what you need."_

Clint grabbed the wall to steady himself. He closed his eyes. Deep breaths. Loki wasn't here. This was his mission from Shield, not a mission from a psychopathic false god. As quick as the memory had surfaced, it disappeared. He straightened himself up. He could feel his left hand shaking. She's not Loki, he reminded himself, she's barely older than a teenager.

When his hand stopped shaking, he nodded to the door to reassure himself. With his travel mug in one hand and a book and phone in the other, he set out into the streets of Washington, D.C.

By the time the sun had risen above the horizon enough to actually contribute a decent amount of light, Clint had reached the Washington Monument. Plenty of early bird runners doing the trail around the National Mall meant Clint didn't look out of place. The food trucks along all the sidewalks had already started lining up. It amazed Clint to no end that the food trucks could park so close to each other; barely two inches between trucks. What if someone wanted to leave early?

He found a bench near the Washington Monument. There was a certain solace to sitting in the early morning with only the sound of runners and a few cars. Washington, D.C. felt less crowded somehow than New York City. No wonder Steve had taken up residence down here. It was probably easier on him transition-wise.

One of the food trucks opened at 8:00. Clint lined up and grabbed a breakfast sandwich. Now that the sun shined bright enough, he slipped on his black sunglasses as he took up his spot on the park bench. He had a few hours before the woman was supposed to show up so he got to work on his book, though he didn't pay attention to it much. It wasn't in his nature.

He had a mission. And a few hours later his target showed up. He didn't move towards her. Instead he watched her closely without drawing attention. There was no mistaking it- the grey hat gave her away. She stood about 5 foot 6, long blonde hair hanging loose. In her ears were earbuds. He noticed that her phone looked rather expensive compared to the plain clothes she wore. Likely stolen.

She went to one of the pizza trucks - at least she had good taste - and ordered a slice to go. Still Clint didn't move. He had gone completely still as he watched her walk down 14th Street to Jefferson Drive South West. He took out his map when she disappeared from view. There was a Metro stop on Jefferson Drive. With a quick google search, he found that it served the Blue, Orange, and Silver lines. He sighed. It wouldn't even take three stops to get to L'Enfant Plaza, the biggest hub for the DC Metro.

He spent the rest of the day at the museums, killing time. He'd have to stake out the same place tomorrow anyways. He hoped to follow her then, at least get a lead on her movements throughout the city.

As he reached his apartment that night, he didn't even bother to text Steve about how the day had gone. He felt too tired. He went straight to bed.

Clint followed the same routine for three more days. He brought his book with him to the Washington Monument, watched her during her walk through the city, and went home before dark. She seemed to use the metro sparingly. On the sixth night of his mission, he noticed she took a different route. She took the metro - Smithsonian to Metro Center and Metro Center to Gallery Place - before switching to the Red Line and heading North. So far she'd stayed mostly south.

This intrigued Clint too much, but she shook his tail on her before he could tell what stop she got off of. So he made up his mind.

 **"Hey Steve, don't wait up for me to watch Firefly tonight. I'm trying something new today."**  He texted Steve at 8:00 when he reached the park bench.

On that day seven, he watched her go up to the pizza food truck as usual. He got up from his regular bench and hoped in line behind her. He observed her as best he could close up. She wore shabby jeans and a black band logo shirt with a grey zip-hoodie over top. The line was longer today, a Saturday, and it gave him time.

He held a piece of nanotechnology in his fingers. As she stood nearly at the place to order, he tapped her on the shoulder, leaving the tracker on her jacket. She turned.

"Sorry, just wanted to say that I love your Panic! At the Disco shirt," Clint apologized sheepishly.

She grinned. "You're good. Panic is one of my favorites." She had to turn quickly back to the truck to order her pizza. "Slice of pepperoni please."

As she bantered back and forth with the food truck owner, he calmed his nerves. He hated how symmetrical her face was. It bothered him just like in the photos. Too perfect. Almost like Thor. Almost like Loki.

She left and he ordered. Taking his slice back to his park bench, he started pretending to read again. But his mind was a million places except for the story. Once she disappeared down the road, he checked his phone. The tracker had already started working. He flashed a tight smile at the phone.

He leisurely made his way back to the apartment again. Going straight to his own rooms, he sat down on the couch and flipped the TV on. He had a few hours to kill.

 **"I think I'm making headway,"**  he texted Natasha around 5:00 PM.

It didn't take long for her to reply.  **"Oh?"**

 **"Got a tracker on her today. I'm going to follow her tonight."**  He flipped channels. Finally he settled on hockey.

 **"Be careful,Clint,"**  she replied.

At seven o'clock that night, Clint got his suit on. He put his black jacket over it. In the dark at night it seemed like he was wearing regular clothes, only these were bullet resistant. He carried with him his bow in a case that resembled an ordinary briefcase. Hopping on the metro, he took it to Brentwood, just as his tracker showed on his phone.

Brentwood. One of the most dangerous places in the D.C. Metropolitan area. Crime here was at a high, and poverty too. The two went hand in hand. What the hell was his target doing there. There wasn't anything worth stealing in Brentwood.

"What is she doing," he muttered to himself as he disembarked at the Brentwood station. He checked the tracker again. She wasn't far.

He thanked his lucky stars that it was already night, and a cloudy one at that. He stuck to the shadows. He caught sight of her half an hour later, walking down a street with a hood up to cover her face and earbuds in her ears once again.

She certainly was bold. Walking down one of the most dangerous parts of D.C. as an attractive young woman was either brave or stupid, and he wasn't sure which one at this point. And what happened next only served to reinforce his decision that it was one or the other. As he saw five large men approach her, he took the opportunity to scurry to the top of the townhouse he stood beside and watched from the roof. When he reached the top, he dropped into a crouch. A man with a sniper rifle lay at the edge of the roof. Clint took him out quickly, dropping him unconscious behind him at the back of the roof. Instead, Clint took up the sniper rifle in his place to watch.

He wasn't close enough to hear their discussion. He could read the lips of the men, but her back was to him. Clearly they were acquainted, or at least familiar with each other. He could see gang symbols on the tattoos of the men, and he started to unpack his bow just in case.

"What the hell is she playing at," he muttered.


	5. Chapter Five

Paige looked the main man right in the eyes. He was a burly white guy, muscular, tatted all over. She liked tattoos. She wanted one. But his were ugly, and had ugly meanings.

"Get out of here, witch," he ordered her angrily. "We know how you've been attacking our other groups. We're ready."

She didn't respond at first. Her right hand was in her pocket, ready to press play on her music whenever she decided the time was right. Instead she cocked her head. "Why do you think I'm a witch?"

"You've got unnatural powers, chica," said another man beside the first to his right. "We know you've been blowing up our weapons caches."

Paige smiled softly. "Don't call me chica, please."

"Is bitch a better term?" bit back the first man. "Rhymes with what you are."

"Clever," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Listen. I'm here to put a stop to your little games. I know you know I'm here to do that. So let's get started." She pressed the ' **Play** ' button on her music app. Her left earbud started playing "Say Amen" by Panic! at the Disco. She smiled.

"Fine with us, chica," chirped the second man. "We're prepared."

She saw them pull their guns and immediately her arms went up to protect her face. A blast of energy pulsed from her, knocking them to the ground. Paige gasped for breath. Concentrating again, she sent a burst of flames from her outstretched arms at the first three men to start getting off the ground. They shrieked.

_"-Oh! It's saturday night-"_

To the beat of the song, she fired shot after shot of fire and ice at the gang members. A bullet grazed her arm and she glared in the direction of the man with the gun. She stalked towards him furiously.

_"-swear to god I am never gonna repent-"_

She thrust out her arm and a shadowy smoke shot forth from it. It strangled the man until he fell to his knees, and from there, died on the ground. With a quick turn, Paige dodged a punch. She grabbed the man's face and heated it until he fell, dead, his skin burned unrecognizably to the ground.

_"-I pray for the wicked on the weekend-"_

As she tangled with the main guy longer than she wanted too, she heard a gun go off and spun around to find the "chica" guy fall dead to the ground, a bullet in his head. Paige glanced around in surprise. In her distraction, her foe knocked her to the ground. She groaned as her head hit the pavement. It a moment of pure instinct, she raised her hands to shield her face. A blast of golden light shot at the man as he brought his knife down on her. He screamed.

By now, bystanders had started gathering. Paige shook with anger as she saw their cellphones out filming her. But moments later all the lights on the street blew out and everyone's phones died, including hers. The music stopped. She glanced around in confusion again. That wasn't her.

In the cellphone and light debacle, she made her get away. She twisted the shadows around her to reflect light, creating a mirror of sorts to shield her. Paige ran as fast as she could. Who the hell had interrupted her fight?

Paige groaned as she saw blood on her sweatshirt. She ditched it in a bush, burning it. She still had an hour to ride the Metro back to her hideout near the National Mall. With a quick smile at the Metro police, she hopped on board and made her getaway.

As she sat in the mostly empty train car, she pulled out her cellphone. Dead. Smoking, actually. It was like the insides had been fried. She groaned audibly and lay back with eyes half closed. Just her luck. She had finally gotten all the music she wanted downloaded on that thing. Now she had to steal a new one and start from scratch.

Still, the satisfaction of having shut down the last branch of the Brentwood gang gave her a good deal of enjoyment. Enough to make her less upset for the time being. She loved being able to get her anger out on the gangs.

When she reached her stop at last, Paige tumbled from the car and quietly walked down the National Mall. She reached the reflecting pool and watched it for a bit. It was nice to be able to see what few stars made an appearance in D.C. in that water.

Clint, for his part, had also taken the Metro as far from Brentwood as he could. He had no interest in dealing with local police. His phone had been fried as well after he used the localized EMP device to shut down the recordings of his target. Fortunately he had a second one back at his apartment.

When he finally reached the apartment complex at ten o'clock that night, he raced up to Steve's apartment and knocked on the door. To his surprise, the super soldier was still awake. "I was waiting to hear how it went. Figured you'd text, not make a house call though."

Clint frowned and showed him his dead phone. "Had to use an EMP device to stop her from getting filmed."

As Steve let him inside, he raised an eyebrow. "What exactly was she doing?"

"Fighting MS-13," muttered Clint as he threw himself onto Steve's couch. "Killing MS-13 more accurately."

"What?" Steve handed Clint a beer, and the man thanked him. "So you mean she's some kind of vigilante?"

Clint shook his head. He put the beer on the nearby side table and put his face in his hands. "She has real power. I've not seen destruction like that in a long time." He shook his head. "I don't know, Steve. She's dangerous."

"Everyone Shield deals with is dangerous," Steve reminded him. "Aren't we all on Shield's threat list?"

Clint snorted. "Yeah. But Me and Nat can't shoot fire from our hands."

"Why don't you talk to her?" Steve ventured a minute later. "Accelerate the time table."

With a nod, he agreed. "She knows someone is watching her now. I had to take a guy out to protect her."

"So she's not been trained very well," Steve proposed.

Clint shook his head. "Like the intel says, she fights based on instinct. She's reactionary. Definitely not working for anyone otherwise she'd not be as reckless as she is. Her magic though, it's intense." He took another drink of his beer. "I think I will talk to her tomorrow. Make her an offer."

He went back to his own apartment not long after. He set up his new phone for a bit and texted Natasha about recent developments. To his frustration, the tracking device had been disabled, whether by the EMP of something else, he didn't know. He just had to hope she would stick to her routine the next day.

He tried to sleep, unsuccessfully, for hours. Finally he'd had enough. Pulling on sweatpants and a purple sweatshirt he climbed the fire escape to the roof and stood there, looking down at the road below. Cars drove past endlessly.

_"What's it like to have your mind expanded, Agent Barton?"_

He froze, hand on his gun in his pocket. As the memory of Loki passed, he rubbed his forehead. He really was a mess these days. He sighed.

Clint took the picture from his back pocket of Paige Wilson. He looked at the picture closely, as he had done many times. His target certainly had spunk. Coulson probably would've been rooting for her, if he was honest with himself. To be fair, Clint himself was starting to root for her. While her extreme measures to kill MS-13 were unorthodox and probably immoral, she had spunk.

After an hour out in the cold, legs dangling from the side of the building, he finally felt tired enough to head back to sleep. When his head hit the pillow, he passed out in exhaustion, and it was only the alarm he had set that jerked him from slumber the next morning.


	6. Chapter Six

_This is probably a bad idea,_  Clint thought to himself as he stood pretending to examine the Washington Monument. The food trucks where Paige consistently went for lunch weren't far away. He had purchased a phone from a nearby store that morning and left it on the park bench near the trucks, one that Paige always passed. He knew she'd be in need of a new one that morning.

She entered the food truck line right on time again. But his time she looked around first and to Clint's pleasant surprise she found the phone. As she went to order her food, Clint enacted step two. Dial the phone.

He watched her stare down at the device in confusion. He had set the Caller ID to " **Answer the Phone**." He just hoped her curiosity would set in. It did.

"Hello?"

Clint smiled, turning away from her to look up at the Washington Monument. He had the call routed through his hearing aids and put the phone away. There was no reason for her to suspect him. "Nice display last night."

"Listen, whoever you are, if you're here to kill me, I'm not going down easy."

Clint chuckled. "I'm not here to kill you. I just want to talk." A long paused ensued. He decided that was a good sign. "Do you like coffee?"

"Depends on the type."

Clint smiled to himself. "I promise, I'm not going to hurt you. Let's talk like civilized people and not fight where civilians are present."

"Depends on if you try to kill me."

He rolled his eyes. Turning to see where she was, he found her turned the opposite way, looking down 14th Street. "That's not how I work." He continued, "Turn around. Washington Monument, beside the fifth flag from the door."

She turned slowly. It didn't take her long to locate him, and he waved to her. Immediately she hung up the phone. Clint walked over to her nonchalantly, watching as she took a bite of her pizza. She didn't seem overly concerned.

"Paige, right? I'm Clint." He nodded, and gestured for her to sit on the bench. Without waiting for her he sat down.

She looked him up and down. Paige stayed standing. "Clever trick, with the phone. Though totally unnecessary. Also overly dramatic. Especially if you want to kill me."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Listen, Paige, I just want to talk. If I wanted you dead I could've taken the shot last night." He paused. "Also, sorry about killing your phone. That was the quickest way to make sure no one had footage of you."

Folding her arms, Paige frowned. She glanced over Clint's head at the street. He sat expectantly. Finally she spoke. "There's a coffee shop not far from here. It's called Timgad's. If you're buying, I'll go."

Clint nodded. "Only fair. Keep the phone, by the way. I owe it to you." He stood from the bench and followed her up 14th Street.

The walk took about ten minutes. Neither one said anything. Clint didn't find the silence uncomfortable except for the fact that his brain kept trying to remind him that she, like Loki, had magic. He kept his right hand active in his jacket, playing with his closed pocket knife.

When they reached Timgad's, they got their coffee quickly. Paige picked a table outside, away from most other patrons. By now it was already 1:00 PM and the lunch crowd had mostly left. They sat down.

Clint got out his ID badge. "I'm Clint Barton, agent of SHIELD."

She sat back against the chair, folding her arms. "Why does that make so much sense now."

"What?" Clint furrowed his brow.

She chuckled, waving at him with her hand. "The whole 'dark and brooding' schtick. You're one of them. Though I bet you do dark and brooding for the image, not for any real reason."

"I'm not brooding," he commented quickly.

Paige sighed. "Fine. Why did you want to chat. Impressed by the light show yesterday?"

"I'm here to ask you to meet with some other members of Shield," Clint said quickly. "We might be able to offer you a job, or training. Both of which you seem to need."

Paige frowned at him. "Money's tight, yeah. I don't exactly have a regular job. What does Shield want with me? Aren't they the ones who caused the attack on New York six months ago?"

Pain crossed his face as memories flashed through his mind. 23 agents. 17 civilians. Those were his casualties from the Battle of New York.

_"Why am I back? How'd you get him out?"_

_"I hit you really hard on the head."_

_"Thanks... How many agents did I..."_

_"Don't do that to yourself, Clint. This is monsters and magic, and nothing we were ever trained for."_

23 agents. 17 civilians. Those were his casualties.

Clint released his grip on the table as the memories faded. He focused on Paige instead. She seemed legitimately concerned. Clint shook his head. "Shield tried its best to stop an alien invasion. There were complications. It took longer than it should have. That's the only reason it ever even got to New York."

"Hm." She frowned. Taking a drink of her coffee, she paused before continuing. "If I say yes, what happens?"

Clint shrugged at her. "That's not up to me. I just bring targets in. My guess is you'd talk to Director Fury himself. Someone with your skills is a gift. Speaking of," he paused. "Are you human?"

It was her turn to pause. She sighed. "I don't know."

"That might be something we can do for you. We have special tests we run to determine what enhanced individuals are." Clint stood and offered her a hand up. "Are you interested?"

Paige looked at his offered hand. Then she glanced up at him. "If I am?"

He didn't move his hand. "We head back to my apartment complex. Captain America is right up the stairs. I'm Hawkeye by the way."

She leaned back in her chair and gave a short laugh. "Oh my god, like of the Avengers?" She cracked a smile. "Well, I feel honored to have had coffee with a guy who uses a bow in an alien invasion."

Clint put his hands on his hips. He went to reply but after a pause, he shook his head. "I've not got a comeback for that." After a moment he continued. "How about this. Does it sound better? I'm an orphan raised by carnies who uses a stick and string from the paleolithic era for fighting aliens. I say I should get some serious props for that."

Paige smirked and stood up. "Lead the way,  _Carnie_."

"Listen, _Pea_ ," he chastised her as he moved towards the street., "I'm an Avenger. You don't get to call me Carnie like its an insult."

"Pea?" She glared at him. "If I don't get to call you Carnie, you don't get to call me Pea."

"Pea. P for Paige. Pea for Pea Brain, Pee for Pee-wee." Clint rattled off the reasons for the nickname. "Better hurry up, dark and brooding." He called a taxi.

"Hey!"

Clint got into the taxi and left the door open for her. She stood with her arms crossed. But he smiled. "We're going to meet Captain America, remember?"

"Fine. Because Captain America." She slipped into the seat beside him.

When they reached the apartment building, Clint let Paige get out while he paid the driver. Then he took out his phone and texted Steve.

"We'll head up to his apartment," he told Paige as they stood on the sidewalk. "C'mon."

He went inside and didn't wait to see if she would follow. Quickly he texted Natasha that he'd made contact, and that he'd let her know more later. He also asked her not to tell Fury. That would come in a full report later.

Clint knocked on Steve's door as Paige went up the five steps she had left. He answered moments later. Steve smiled. "Hey just got your text."

"This is Paige Wilson, Paige, this is Steve Rogers." Clint gestured between them. "Let's head inside before we draw unwanted attention."

"Nice to meet you." Steve offered his hand to Paige and she took it, shaking hands with him. Then Steve let them inside. "I was just thinking about dinner. Do you want anything in particular, Paige?" He gestured to Clint. "I know you'd want pizza."

"Whatever you're having is fine," Paige commented. "I can't pay though."

Steve smirked. "No need. Shield pays well."

"You're in Shield too?" Paige looked between them. "So what exactly is Shield?"

"Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division." Walking over to Steve's couch, Clint sat down in exhaustion. The many days of work was catching up with him. "It's an international organization founded to deal with unnatural threats and basically anything big and threatening."

"Like the Battle of New York?"

Steve sighed, glancing quickly at Clint before answering. "That was more than Shield was used to handling. They let that get away from them."

Clint glared at the TV. "I warned them, you know." He stood and walked back over to them, pacing. "I told them as soon as the issue started that it wasn't something we should be meddling with."

Paige looked at him curiously. "What did happen?"

"That's classified," Clint replied with as sigh. He rubbed his forehead. "Monsters and magic, as a partner of mine called it at the time. Stuff we weren't trained for."

"After all, you're just an orphan raised by carnies wielding a bow and arrow," Paige reminded him smartly.

Clint scoffed and downed the last bit of a bottle of water. "You're not wrong." As he held the bottle to his lips, his hand shook. He drank it quickly and hid it behind a sassy smile. "But then, what would a pea brain know about agent stuff?"

Steve wasn't fooled one bit by Clint's posturing. He asked Paige to wait for a minute while he talked to Clint. "Come here."

Clint folded his arms but followed Steve into his bedroom. It was so clean. Clint wondered how he ever found stuff in it. "What, Cap?"

"You're asleep on your feet. You're hiding your stress." Steve leaned against the door to keep it closed. "Don't protest to me, Clint. I went through a lot when they first brought me back. Flashbacks, memories. That doesn't just leave you. What Loki did, it affected you. You're not fooling me."

Clint glared at him. "Listen, Rogers. This is my job. I have to do my job."

"Why this job though? Why something so close to the Battle of New York. She's got the same power set as Loki. I find it hard to believe that even Nick Fury would've given you this job happily," Steve reminded him.

Clint refused to answer him. "I'll go grab a few hours' sleep if it'll calm you down. Watch Paige for me. I have to make a report to Fury anyways."

"Sleep, Clint."

They went back into the main room to find Paige playing around with her new phone. When they came back in she stopped, watching them curiously.

"I've got go make a report to my boss," Clint told her. "Stay here with Cap. He'll make sure you get dinner without having to steal a twenty from someone on the street."

Paige glared at him and folded her arms. "There's the judgmental tone. I knew it would come out somewhere."

"Believe it or not, Paige, but your petty thefts are not that bad compared to what some Shield agents have done in their past," Clint clarified. "So there's no tone." He turned to Steve. "Keep me updated."

Steve followed him out into the hall. "Clint-"

"Sleep. I've got it." He didn't even bother to look back at the super soldier. He just took the stairs down. Under his breath he muttered, "if I can sleep."


	7. Chapter Seven

Clint managed to grab an hour of sleep after calling Fury letting him know that he'd successfully made contact with Paige. Fury wanted her brought to the Triskelion the next day to meet with him. With a sigh, he pulled on a white tee-shirt and grabbed his black sweatshirt by the door.

He grabbed a sandwich from the Subway quietly before rejoining Steve and Paige in the other apartment. All he wanted was to see Lucky. As much as he was glad to have gotten back into missions, Clint wanted to head back to his home. He wanted everything behind him.

Steve opened the door to the apartment a minute after Clint knocked. He nodded to him quietly, letting the archer enter the room. "Any news on what to do with Paige?"

Clint nodded back at him, walking into the living area where Paige sat playing on her cellphone. When she saw Clint, she put the phone down. She waited expectantly.

"Nick Fury wants you to come with us to the Triskelion tomorrow. That's the big building on the Theodore Roosevelt Island." Clint walked over to the far side of the couch and sat on a separate arm chair nearer to the TV. After turning it on, he looked back over at Paige. "He's the Director of Shield and I report directly to him. He'll give you some idea of what Shield can offer you."

Paige hummed to herself. "Fair enough. I'll see what he has to say. After four years living on the streets and out of stolen cars I was starting to miss good amenities anyways. And you guys get paid, right?"

Steve chuckled. "Yeah, we do. But we also do good work, which you could probably help with."

"You'd need real training first. You're powerful with the magic stuff, but your hand-to-hand needs work." Clint looked her over. "Can you shoot a gun?"

Paige frowned in confusion. "What's the point? I can conjure fire just by thinking about it."

"You never know. Most powers can be neutralized one way or another." Clint shrugged, flipping through channels. He ended up watching a soccer match. As he started watching the game, turned back to Paige. "I assume you'd rather sleep in a safe apartment building than the streets tonight? The safehouse downstairs has an extra bedroom you're welcome to."

"Plus he provides coffee," Steve joked as he sat down next to Paige on the couch to watch the game. "If he can spare any."

Clint grinned. "That's a big if."

"And I doubt he has cream or sugar," added Steve quickly. He picked up a sketch pad from the side table to his left and began sketching something.

Clint looked at him in disgust. "Why would anyone put that crap in coffee? It's already perfect as it is."

Laughter erupted from Paige. "I saw you drinking it black earlier."

"Yeah! It's the only way," he insisted.

"I like cream and sugar," she shrugged in response. Then she turned back to her phone. "Now, thanks to your stupid stunt yesterday I need to find all new music."

Clint smirked to himself. He took out his own phone. Scrolling through his text messages, and clicked on the fifth contact down in his phone. Tony Stark.  **"Hey man, I've got a question."**

Marked as Read. Clint watched and waited for Tony's response.  **"What do you need, Legolas."**  A moment passed and another text came through.  **"By the way, Pepper won't stop bugging me to ask you what paint color you want for your suite in the Tower."**

 **"Cmon Tony, you should know by now."**  Clint smirked to himself as he typed.

 **"Grey? And what shade of purple for the decor?"**  A second buzz.  **"When you coming over next anyway? You're like right down the street, man."**

Clint snorted and typed back.  **"I am an agent, Tony. I have a job."**

 **"Shocker."**  The sarcasm came through just fine.  **"Aren't you on bedrest or something?"**

 **"I'm in DC on mission. Which is why I texted."**  Clint glanced up from his phone for a moment as Manchester United scored a goal. He smiled and pumped his fist. Turning back to the phone, he continued.  **"Do you want to support a good cause."**

**"Why does this worry me, Barton. Is the good cause getting you a new Xbox?"**

**"I have no idea what you're talking about."**  Clint rolled his eyes.  **"The mission was to bring in a target, and I sort of blew up the target's phone. So she lost her music. Fury will reimburse you I'm sure. But I'm not giving her my credit card. That's for Shield only."**

**"I gotcha. Super secret spy stuff."**

Clint shook his head ever so slightly with a smug smile.  **"Yeah. Exactly. Which, remember, you aren't a part of."**

**"And yet here you are begging for money."**

Clint huffed.  **"Tony you son of a-"**

"Who are you texting?" Steve asked him in amusement. "Your reactions are priceless."

He had glanced over to Clint's phone and looked at him in curiosity. While the game still played on the TV, clearly no one was watching it. Paige had her earbuds in, Steve had his drawings, and Clint had Tony.

Looking over Paige to Steve, Clint rolled his eyes. "Who do you think. He's rich, and has an ego about as big as his profit margins-"

"Ah."

Looking back down at his unfinished text, Clint erased the insult.  **"Listen. I've got a girl here, she's 21, has no family, kills gangs for a living, but just got all her music taken away. Send me a couple hundred and I'll get Fury to reimburse you."**

Marked as read. Tony didn't respond right away, but when he did, it was with a link to collect three hundred dollars.  **"Here. You heartless bastard, you took away her music."**

Clint sighed and threw his head back dramatically. He turned to Steve. "One of these days I am going to turn Tony into a pincushion."

"Just don't do it in my apartment. And make sure Pepper doesn't have to pick up the pieces," he said, laughing. "She's gone through too much with him already."

"Yeah especially after that whole episode with the fire guys," Clint muttered. He then turned back to his texts.  **"Thanks, rich guy."**

**"Just make sure you come over soon. Don't want Pepper thinking you're avoiding her!"**

**"Pepper is the best part of your building, Tony. She's the only reason you're manageable."**

**"I'm manageable? What an insult. Guess I have to step up my game."**

**"Good night Tony."**

**"You know we have the best whiskey and vodka around."**

**"GOODNIGHT TONY."**

Clint turned to Paige. He said her name, but she was fully tuned into her music, and her eyes were closed. He spoke louder. Still no response. Finally he touched her on the shoulder.

Paige's eyes shot open and she turned, grabbing Clint's arm and somehow freezing it. He shouted in pain. "Ow!"

"Ah sorry-" She let go instantly and winced as they all looked at the reddening, rough skin patch now on Clint's lower arm in the shape of a hand. "I didn't mean to do that."

Steve grabbed a baggie and placed ice inside as Clint examined the burn. It wasn't particularly bad; it would only need antibiotic creams and ice to keep the pain down. But he looked at it more in concern. It had hurt like hell. "Well."

"Hey I'm sorry. Really," Paige apologized, her eyes nearly watering in sincerity. "Sometimes I can't control it. Often, actually. It's like it protects me without me meaning to."

"It?"

Paige hesitated. "The magic."

Steve came back over from the kitchen. He circled around to the back of the couch, leaving Clint and Paige looking at the burn between the couch and the TV. "Here." He handed the ice bag to Clint.

"Thanks," replied Clint with a nod to his fellow Avenger. Then he turned back to Paige. "Is it sentient?"

"I don't know," Paige admitted, sitting back down. She covered her face for a moment. "I don't know. It protects me when I need protecting. Keeps me alive. And it has...moods."

Clint shared a quick glance with Steve as he applied the bag of ice to his arm. "Sound like anyone you know?"

"Banner." Steve sighed. Then he looked at the clock.  **11:35.**  "You two should head to bed. Fury's going to want to meet her as soon as possible tomorrow."

Clint agreed, "Come on. My apartment's downstairs. It's a safehouse, probably even safer than this one despite not having Cap." As he opened the door to the hall, he looked back at Steve. "You heading into the Triskelion tomorrow too?"

"Yeah. Rumlow and I train STRIKE team in the mid morning now." He walked over to the door. "If you're going in until then, you guys can join me for a run around the Mall."

Clint chuckled. "More like watch you run, right?" The other man only shrugged with a smirk, causing Clint to shake his head. "No, I'm going to take Paige in bright and early."

"I don't do bright and early," muttered Paige as she followed out the door. "This deal is getting worse by the minute."

The went down the flight of stairs to the second floor. Using his key, Clint opened the safehouse door. He pushed it open to let Paige in. "Welcome to my fantastic apartment."

Paige looked around. "Interesting."

"There's two bedrooms. Take the one in here." He stopped by a door near the entrance and opened it for her. "Coffee's on at six. If you want cream and sugar it'll be up to you to dig around. We leave at 6:30."

"Geez, you weren't kidding about early." She grumbled something that Clint couldn't catch as she flipped on her bedroom light. It wasn't large, but she didn't mind. She was getting to sleep on a real bed for the first time in over a year."

Clint poked his head in. "Shower's down the hall. Shield stocks it well. Enjoy, Pea."

"Thanks, Carnie."

With a small shake of his head, Clint made his way to his own room. His feet dragged on the ground. As soon as he shut the door, not even bothering to turn on the light, he slid down the door and put his head in his hands, bringing his knees close to his chest. His heart rate continued to increase, his head spun. Thank god he was a decent actor after years of being a spy.

_"What did it show you, Agent Barton?"_

_"My next target."_

He clutched his chest, ignoring the flaring pain from his arm. Heat radiated from the burn as the bag of ice slipped to the ground. Damn magic. He started counting backwards.

_One hundred._

_Ninety-nine._

_Ninety-eight._

_Ninety-seven._

His heart still pounded in his body. He could feel heat rising to his ears. He could hear the screams. He could see the bodies.

_Sixty-four._

_Sixty three._

Ever so slightly, he counted his pulse slowing. With a sigh of relief he started breathing again, realizing he'd been holding his breath. Clint glanced down at the burn on his arm and bit his lip. He looked up and let his head hit the door quietly.

Closing his eyes, he muttered to himself. "Damn it, Barton."


	8. Chapter Eight

When his alarm sounded at 5:45 am the next morning, Clint roused from sleep still against the door. He groaned. His neck hurt, his head hurt. His arm most definitely hurt. Glancing down at the burn, he frowned. He'd get a Shield doctor to look at it.

After a quick shower, he changed into his favorite shirt: Black with a down pointing purple arrow. On top went his black leather jacket. He stared in the mirror. His eyes screamed of exhaustion. But at least he'd almost finished his mission.

Clint walked out into the apartment main area and went straight to the kitchen. He started a pot of coffee and found a keurig cup of mocha for Paige. He started it just as Paige emerged from her room, wearing the same thing as the day before; a white tank top that looked surprisingly clean, a ripped up jean jacket, black pants and black tennis shoes, plus her ever present grey hat. Clint realized as much as she wanted music, clothes should probably be their first priority for her.

"It's six and there's no coffee," Paige muttered as he slid into a seat at the nearby table. Despite her eagerness for the drink, she looked extremely well rested.

Clint rolled his eyes from the kitchen. "It's coming."

When it finished up a few minutes later, Clint handed her the mug with the mocha in it. She thanked him and took a drink while he grabbed the coffee pot for himself. The amusement on her face didn't escape Clint as he drank straight from it.

"Not like anyone else is having it," he reminded her.

After ten minutes of coffee enjoyment, Clint insisted they get going. He checked his phone as they pulled on their coats and Clint stuffed his gun in his pocket. Grabbing his case with his bow, arrows, and intel, he led them down to the first floor.

"Car should be outside. Black, with the Shield logo on the front doors." He pushed the doors open into the street. Already traffic had started clogging up the roads and it hadn't even struck 6:30. "C'mon."

Paige hurried out after him, wrapping herself in one of Clint's extra jackets since her jean jacket was full of holes. Clint opened the back door of the waiting Shield vehicle. He gestured for her to get in and scoot across. She did so.

Clint didn't even need to tell the driver where to take them. As soon as both passengers had settled and the door closed, the man dressed in a nice black suit nodded to Clint through the mirror and took off. With the morning commuter traffic backing things up, the drive took about twenty minutes. Clint glanced over at Paige as they crossed the bridge to the Triskelion.

"That's big," she muttered quietly.

Clint smirked, chuckling. "Welcome to the Shield Headquarters. Or at least the one that is public knowledge."

She glanced over at him, intrigued. "There are others then?"

"Can't tell you that. Super secret spy stuff, as a friend called it." He pointed to the newly fitted Shield logo on the Triskelion. It had gone up after the public announcement of Shield following the Battle of New York. "Nick Fury, the Director of Shield, keeps his office here."

With a nod, Paige watched out the front window as best she could while they approached. Soon they entered the base and the driver dropped them off at the main entrance above the parking garage. Clint got out first and stepped aside for Paige.

To both their surprise, Natasha Romanoff greeted them next to the doors. She wore black jeans, a red blouse, and a black leather jacket. She smirked at Clint who stood gaping at her. "Cat got your tongue, Clint?" She then turned to Paige. "So you're Paige Wilson. I'm Natasha Romanoff."

Clint rolled his eyes and walked over to Natasha. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"I wanted to see the woman for myself," replied Natasha with a shrug of nonchalance. "Fury called me down when he got word that you'd found her."

He shook his head. Turning back to Paige, he gestured to Natasha. "The Black Widow."

Paige's eyes lit up in recognition. A smile crept onto her face. "Pleasure to meet you. The news outlets didn't have your name to release to the public. But I always hoped I'd get to thank you."

"For?"

"Being the only woman on the Avengers, at least that the public knows about." Paige walked over to her and shrugged, folding her arms across her chest. "It's just cool."

Natasha gave a small smile and then rounded on Clint. "I like her."

"I had a sneaking suspicion that you would."

She smirked and gestured for Paige to follow them. Clint opened the glass doors with a frosted Shield logo. Nat led, Paige going after her, and Clint bringing up the rear. As they stepped into the massive hall that was the bottom floor, Paige stopped.

"Wow," she murmured. A hundred different well dressed men and women walked to and fro, going up and down escalators and stairs, or taking side passages further into the base. A huge Shield eagle symbol stood made of metal in the very center. "You know, for being a spy organization that values its secrecy, this is rather flashy." She shot Clint a smirk. "Or is there some super secret spy reason for the logos everywhere?"

Natasha smirked but kept walking as Clint folded his arms across his chest and responded. "Well, Pea, clearly the powers that be don't value secrecy as much as the agents. Keep walking."

They took the escalator closest to them, flanking a massive staircase. It brought them to a second floor off the grand entrance. Clint and Natasha led Paige to the left down a corridor filled with elevators. Natasha pressed the 'up' button.

"So, who am I off to see?" Paige asked, suddenly nervous. It occured to her that if she wanted to leave and not join this organization, it would take a lot of bloodshed. She didn't mind killing evil people, in fact, if she admitted it herself, she quite enjoyed it. Or the magic did. But these weren't bad people. At least not the ones she had met so far. "This, Director?"

"Director Nicholas J. Fury," explained Natasha as they walked into the newly arrived elevator. When the doors closed, she continued. "He's the director, reporting to the Council. But for all intents and purposes, he's the highest ranking agent in the organization."

Paige nodded. She stood quietly, trying to calm her nerves. The more anxiety she experienced, the less control she had over her magic. It always tried to protect her, which meant more often than not it lashed out. She had trained herself well over the years to control the fear, but this was more than she had experienced in many years.

"You good?" Clint asked as the elevator continued up. He could see her breathing growing irregular.

"I'm fine, Carnie," she bit back.

As Clint folded his arms, Natasha's eyes sparkled with mirth. She turned to Clint and signed "carnie?" in ASL. He rolled his eyes and didn't bother responding. As the elevator opened, they walked out into a hallway on the outside of the building. One wall, made of windows, provided a beautiful view of Washington, D.C., the Potomac River, and the John F. Kennedy Center across it. Natasha led the way again.

Frosted panes of glass lined the opposite side of the hallway. Soon they came upon a clear glass door. Paige glanced inside and saw a tall man with an eyepatch sitting behind a desk. Across from him, a woman with shoulder length hair sat with her back to the door. Two cups of coffee sat on the desk.

Natasha opened the door. She led them in. Paige paused in her step as the two at the desk turned in their direction. But Clint poked her to keep moving. Both people stood from the desk and walked to meet them.

"Director Fury, Agent Hill," Clint said with a nod. "This is Paige Wilson. Paige, these are Shield's director and assistant director."

She made no response. Paige suddenly felt like a cornered animal and could feel the magic in her body itching to escape. But Fury looked her up and down and nodded. "So you're the one Phil Coulson used to track. I'm surprised you came in without a fight."

"I got tired of not having regular access to showers and beds," she muttered in response.

Maria Hill nodded. She looked to all of them. "Coffee?"

Clint grinned. "Always."

Natasha also asked for some, but Paige shook her head. She didn't need more stimulation than the adrenaline pulsing through her already offered. Maria pressed a button on Fury's desk and called an intern to bring them the drinks.

"Alright, Paige. Let's get straight to business." Fury gestured for her to sit in Maria Hill's former chair. He took his own. "What exactly are your powers?"

As she settled into the chair, Paige kept her arms and legs folded in defense. She glanced around her at the glass window walls and the couch and chairs that sat in the left corner of the room. She didn't miss Clint and Natasha taking up stances behind her chair, and Maria Hill standing next to Fury. Not much of a chance to escape if she needed to.

"I guess I would call it magic," she began slowly. "But it's more than elemental spells and stuff. It's a power, and it protects me when I need protecting. I don't even think about it and it does stuff."

Maria Hill furrowed her eyebrows. "You talk about it like it's sentient?"

"Maybe it is? I don't know. It seems hell bent on making sure I stay alive."

Clint stepped forward and took off his leather jacket. He showed them the red, peeling ice burn on his arm. "She did this."

"By accident!" she insisted in her own defense. She sat up taller. "He surprised me. The magic thought I was in trouble."

Clint shrugged. "Just showing them what you can do, especially if caught unawares."

Fury leaned back in his chair. As he went to speak, a young man in a suit knocked and entered the room carrying four cups of black coffee. He brought it over to the desk, set it down, and promptly left the room. Neither Clint nor Maria wasted no time in grabbing one. The other two took theirs more slowly, waiting until the vultures had gotten their own.

Finally Fury spoke again. "Are you human?"

"That I don't know."

"Anything else besides the magic that's special about you? Our reports indicate that you're stronger and less likely to injure than a normal human of your size," he mused.

Paige nodded, sitting up straight again. "That's true. I'm fairly strong, and it seems to be hard to pierce my skin."

Maria frowned. She turned to the other three agents. "Asgardian, maybe?"

"Maybe," agreed Fury. He turned to Clint and Natasha. "Any word on Thor's whereabouts?"

They told him that Thor hadn't been seen since the Avengers had first formed. Fury frowned. "We have Thor's genetic profile, yes?" He looked over at Hill.

She nodded. "It's standard procedure." Grabbing a tablet from the desk, she tapped a few panels. "Yes, sir. We've got it. Would you like us to crossmatch Paige with Thor?"

"Yes." Fury turned to Paige. "There should be basic Asgardian genetic markers. We'll need to take some blood and skin samples."

"But it'll confirm if I'm an alien?"

Fury nodded affirmatively. "At least if you're Asgardian." He looked at Clint and Natasha. "Escort her to the medical wing. That is, if she's willing to go?"

Paige knew it wasn't a suggestion, but she appreciated the gesture. "Of course."

With that, Clint and Natasha led her out of the office room. They both held their coffees as they walked back through the hallway to the elevators. But instead of taking them down, they crossed through corridor with windows on all sides but the bridge itself that crossed into one of the other two sections of the tall tower part of the Triskelion. Once across the bridge, They took the first elevator down.

It kept going down even when it reached the ground level. Three more levels passed until it opened into a hallway nearly identical to the one above. Clint led the way this time. The hallway ended soon in a large, open space almost as big as the entrance hall on the ground level. Paige looked around in awe. A desk area like an information center stood in the very middle. Clint walked them past it to the far wall where large, sliding double doors made of glass every twenty feet led to further areas of the base. They went to one with a sign labeled " **Laboratories**."

Paige didn't know what to think as they went into the hallway. On the one hand, she felt excited that soon she would hopefully know what she was. But on the other, she didn't look forward to being poked and prodded with needles.


	9. Chapter Nine

They had already waited an hour. Paige scrolled through her phone, using the money that Clint had gotten for her somewhere to buy music and books. They sat inside the medical ward waiting for someone to come get them for testing. At this point she was more than a little irritated. At least when out on her own she didn't have to waste time like that. She and the other two agents looked up as the sliding doors opened and two women and a man walked in.

The second woman shook her head and spoke, her soft British accent hardened by annoyance. "We're not getting a monkey, Fitz!"

"Hear me out," argued the man, "it could do all the dirty work for us. And it would fit right in with Ward."

The woman who hadn't spoken gave the tiniest hint of a smirk before glancing over and noticing Natasha and Clint. She paused and folded her arms. "Well if it isn't the Avengers."

"Agent May," Natasha said with a smile. "Back in the field after all? Didn't you go to paper pushing a while ago?"

She shrugged. "Decided it was time to get back out there."

Clint got up and shook her hand. " Been awhile."

"Are you still as bad at flying as you were when I last saw you?" May smirked as he rolled his eyes. Then she turned back to her companions. "Agent Leopold Fitz and Agent Jemma Simmons."

"What an honor," replied Jemma with a grin. "The Black Widow and Hawkeye!"

Clint shook his head in amusement at her tone. Then he turned to Fitz. "I believe I have you to thank for the hearing aids?"

Fitz brightened up. "Yeah, well, I did my best. I know it's hard to design a hearing aid that works during missions. I hope it's working, at least. I believe it is." He trailed off, "I could've used a monkey to test it on..."

"They work great," Clint assured him.

May folded her arms, looking at Paige again. Then she turned to Clint and Natasha. "What brings you two to medical? I've heard the stories of how you try as hard as you can to avoid it."

"This is Paige Wilson," Natasha began, gesturing to the young woman who stayed seated on the chairs. "We're trying to get dna profiling done for her but no one's been helping. You two wouldn't happen to be able to do it would you?" She turned to Fitz and Jemma.

"Yeah, sure, should be easy enough," Fitz agreed. "That is, if Agent May doesn't need us any further?"

She shrugged. "I can drop these files off on my own."

Clint nodded to Fitz and Jemma. "Good. Let's get this done."

"Now, where to go," Jemma murmured to herself. She looked around in circles and finally caught sight of something that intrigued her among the bustling few agents and doctors. "Ah! There. Come on, Paige."

Paige stood and nodded with a tiny smile. With her arms crossed over her chest hiding her hands as best she could, she followed the four agents. She felt intensely stressed now, and didn't want to risk her magic taking over. So she hid her hands and kept walking.

They entered a small lab room down a hallway. Jemma smiled sweetly at Paige as she had the young woman sit on a metal table. "This won't hurt at all. I just have to take some saliva samples."

"You should probably do a blood sample too," Fitz replied as he started looking around for the testing materials she would need.

Jemma rolled her eyes. "I didn't know you had a degree in bio-chem?"

"What! I'm just-"

"-offering a suggestion. Yes I know." Jemma turned back to Paige and shrugged. Then she turned to Clint and Natasha. "Do we need to do a full blood work up? What is the DNA testing for?"

Clint shrugged. "We need to find out if she's human," he explained, walking to stand against the closed door. He leaned back against it and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "The results need to stay classified."

Fitz and Jemma both looked from the other two agents over to Paige. Natasha rolled her eyes and walked over the desk where a computer sat. She typed in her clearance codes and brought up the genetic work up done on Thor. "Compare her results to these. Look for Asgardian markers in her tests."

"Asgardian," Jemma breathed with a smile. "That is amazing! Are you able to heal yourself? We heard rumors-"

"We don't know if she's Asgardian," Natasha reminded her. "That's what the test needs to show us."

Fitz nodded. "Of course if she is Asgardian, we should do more tests. We might be able to synthesize some sort of healing-"

"From her blood! Fitz you're a genius!" Jemma took the dna sampler from her colleague and turned to Paige. "Alright my dear. Open your mouth."

Paige did as she was told and flinched back as Jemma began to swab her cheek. Her eyes began to tear up involuntarily and she made tight fists of her hands as she felt her magic tingling at her fingertips. She kept trying to tell herself she was fine, it was fine, everything was fine.

After a minute, Jemma finished and put the sample in a glass test tube. She then had Paige spit into a tube and handed it back to Fitz. They got to work analyzing the samples. Keeping a close eye on Paige from where he stood against the door, Clint tried his best to keep his mind from wandering. But the pain in the burn on his arm against his leather jacket distracted him. Natasha, for her part, took turns between watching Fitz-Simmons work and making sure Clint's head was on alright.

After ten tense minutes of listening to Fitz and Jemma mutter to each other, both leaned into look at the results. The other three perked up immediately as they grew silent. But then Jemma started talking to Fitz again.

"Well I don't know what those are, Fitz. Definitely not human," she murmured. "Look at those chromosomes."

"But those do match," Fitz argued. "Could be a variant in Asgardian dna?"

Jemma shook her head. "I don't think so-"

"What am I?" Paige blurted out a moment later. "You two can stop with the muttering." She didn't miss Natasha's growing smirk at her comment.

Jemma and Fitz stood up. They exchanged glances. Finally Jemma gave them her answer. "Some of your DNA does have Asgardian markers. So you're definitely partially Asgardian. But-"

"-There's another type of DNA in your body," Fitz added. "It's not human though."

"Definitely not," agreed Jemma.

Clint nodded. "Partially Asgardian, partially something else. A place to start at least." He turned to Natasha. "Let's get the results to Fury."

"There's another thing," Jemma added quickly. "She has some markers that seem related to Thor himself, beyond just basic Asgardian DNA."

"She what?" Clint stared at them in surprise. "Like a relation?"

Fitz nodded and pointed to some of the results. "Not an immediate family relation, but something. Maybe a cousin of some sort?"

Paige sat blinking. A cousin of Thor? She glanced from the computer results which she couldn't understand over to Jemma and Fitz, and finally a visibly shocked Clint and stoic Natasha. "What does that mean?"

"Means we better find Thor," Natasha murmured, looking at the results again. After a moment she typed a few commands on the computer and locked the results for Level 8 access. She turned to Fitz and Jemma. "This information stays classified. If Coulson asks about it, he's cleared for the information, but only him."

"Coulson," Fitz stuttered. "What-what do you mean? He's dead. Why would we...what would we-"

"There's no Coulson. Nope." Jemma stood and straightened her skirt. "I don't understand, Agent Phil Coulson died during the Battle of New York how would we tell...him."

Clint laughed, but Natasha merely shook her head, folding her arms. "You two are worse liars than even Clint over there. We know he's alive, and running your group."

"Just keep pretending though, it's entertaining." Clint stood from leaning against the door and walked over to Jemma. "But in the meantime, what do you have for a burn like this?" He took off his leather jacket and showed her the hand print burn on his arm.

"Oh my," Jemma frowned, forgetting all about the Coulson debacle. "Fitz get me some antibiotic cream."

Fitz huffed at being ordered around but did so. As Jemma kept examining the burn, he handed her latex gloves and a white tube of cream. She nodded her thanks. "This is a bad burn. Looks like frostbite - dry ice maybe. How did it get shaped like a hand?" She looked up at Clint.

"Classified," he replied quickly, not risking a glance in Paige's direction.

Jemma rolled her eyes. "Classified. If I'm going to treat this I need more information."

"I don't have anymore."

She frowned. "Fine." Applying the cream to his burn, she then wrapped it in white gauze and bandages. "Keep it covered, Agent Barton. You'll want to get it checked again for the blistering."

"Thanks," said Clint with a nod. He put his jacket back on. "We need to get this to Fury. Remember, this stays quiet."

"Can we take her blood for testing?" Fitz asked hopefully.

Natasha stared at him. "No."

Without another word, she nodded at them and left the room, leaving Clint and Paige to follow quickly. Paige hopped off the metal bed and thanked Fitz and Jemma quickly before hurrying after Natasha. Clint rolled his eyes after his partner. But then he followed.


	10. Chapter 10

Paige still couldn't wrap her head around the knowledge that she, somehow, was related to Thor, the Avenger. As she walked quietly behind Natasha with Clint bring up the rear, she slipped in a single earbud and turned on her music.

"Fury's in his private conference room," Natasha told them as they stopped for an elevator. "I just told him we're on the way. He finished talking to the Council."

When the elevator arrived, they took it to the ground floor. From there, Clint and Natasha walked Paige down a side hallway. They finally stopped before a grey door. Scanning a Shield ID, Clint let them inside. Maria Hill and Nick Fury both sat inside. A holographic projection of a tall man with greying hair stood in the corner of the room. At the intrusion of Clint, Natasha, and Paige, all three stopped talking.

"What's the result?" Fury asked immediately.

" _Yes,"_  drawled the holographic man, " _We are looking forward to finding out what this woman can do."_  Then he nodded to Natasha and Clint as they walked into view. " _Good to see both of you."_

Natasha nodded right back. "Councilman Malick." Then she gestured to Paige. "According to the DNA test she's at least part Asgardian, and part something else nonhuman. We have nothing to cross reference it with. But she's also related to Thor somehow."

"I was reading Agent Barton's report on your... activities," said Fury with a small nod, though they could all tell the mention of Thor caught him off guard. He flipped through a file that sat before him on the table. "It says here you've been fighting MS-13 in various areas of the country."

"Not just MS-13," Paige objected immediately. "Anyone participating in gang violence or human trafficking."

Fury looked at her carefully. Turning to Hill, he saw her nod and returned it. "Malick?"

" _I still want her for testing,"_ said the man. " _It's possible her abilities, especially an Asgardian healing factor, could be used to enhance our own operatives."_

Natasha's left eyebrow shot up. "With all do respect, Councilman, sticking this woman in a lab for testing is a waste of her skills."

"I agree," added Fury. "I think she'd be better served-"

" _Don't tell me you're adding her to the Avengers Initiative,"_  Malick said with a scoff. " _She's a criminal."_

Clint folded his arms. "So were we. And yet you trust us as top level agents."

Paige's eyes widened. She looked between Clint and Natasha briefly before facing Fury. Suddenly his words had sunk in. "Wait, Avengers Initiative?"

"Don't let it go to your head," Fury told her quickly. "We would still need to clear you, and it would start as a trial period. We need to track down Thor and find out your relation to him. It's likely he'll have answers to some of the questions we still have."

Malick frowned. " _Fury. If this goes south, we'll have your head."_

"If the Council has any issues it is welcome to find me," bit back the Director. "I have a report to make." Malick's holographic feed shut off and Fury turned back to the group. "Hill, get me Tony Stark."

"Yes, sir," she replied with a nod. Tapping some buttons on the panel before them, it didn't take long before Tony Stark stood before them in holographic form.

" _You rang, Nick?"_  Tony looked around him. " _I think this is the first time I actually used this tech. It works great."_  He turned back to Fury. " _You're lucky I'm a genius. Took awhile to design."_

"Stark if you can stop talking for thirty seconds," muttered Fury as he held his head in his hand. "We need you to design another floor of the new Tower headquarters."

Tony smirked. " _What, is this for the kid Agent Barton went after?"_

Clint walked over into view of Tony. "What happened to super secret spy stuff, Tony?"

" _That's your job, not mine,"_ Tony replied with a wink as Fury looked at Clint in exasperation.

"Remind me why I keep you as an agent. You don't do secret mission very well," Fury told Clint with a shake of his head. He looked over to Natasha. "This is what happens when you're not watching him."

Clint rolled his eyes. "I asked Tony for some money to get her music since I blew up her phone."

"Uh huh," Fury rolled his eyes right back. Then he turned back to Tony Stark. "Since you already seem privy to her situation I'll leave it at that."

" _I could use more info,"_  Tony clarified. " _What's her favorite color, what music does she like? I'm not a designer from nothing. And remember Nick, I'll be calling in some favor later I'm sure."_

Paige stood watching out of view. She knew of Tony Stark more than any other member of the Avengers she had met thus far. His face had been plastered all over the news for years. She had used a homeless shelter he'd founded in New York City last time she'd been there. His face had been prominent there. The only homeless shelter or food bank that she liked more was the one founded by PRIDE in Los Angeles.

"Orange," she said a moment later. Her arms crossed over her chest as she walked into view of Tony Stark's hologram. "And black."

" _Well hello,"_  Tony chuckled. He looked her up and down. " _So you're the music girl."_

She hesitated. With a shrug she answered him, "I suppose that's better than witch…"

" _So are you joining the Avengers? We're a tight knit group you know, might be hard to fit right in with us."_  Tony looked over at Fury. " _Nick, she's joining us?"_

"For now," replied Fury with a sigh. "Hill, get Stark out of here."

" _Wait wait,"_ Tony held up his hand. He looked over at her again. " _What's your name?"_

She straightened up. "Paige."

" _I'll have Pepper get to work on your suite."_  Then he turned to Clint and Natasha. " _You two are moving in right? The floors are done."_

Clint laughed. "Tony, I'll text you about that."

" _Don't forget, Legolas."_

He rolled his eyes. "At least if I move into the Tower I'll have you to buy me electronics."

" _Oh trust me, the game systems are all here already."_  Then he turned. " _Natasha are you coming?"_

"I don't think so."

" _We've got seriously good vodka-"_

"I don't drink that stuff anymore."

" _Whiskey then."_  Tony winked at her. Then he turned to Maria Hill. " _Feel free to make me disappear now. I've got other things to do than just me your telecommuter."_

Maria Hill didn't have to be told twice. With the press of a button, Tony's image disappeared. Fury turned back to the three Avengers. "We need to put Paige through training. Are you two prepared to take over that responsibility, or do we need to keep her here until she's properly trained?"

"Shouldn't be a problem, sir," Natasha mused. "Clint will be there."

"Not you?" Clint looked over at her.

Natasha smirked. "Oh I will. Not at first though. I just want to leave Stark in suspense. It's incredibly fun to watch him squirm." At their looks of surprise she just shrugged. "He needs to be put back in his place."

Suddenly a knock sounded at the door. Maria pressed a button to let the newcomer know he or she could enter. They all turned to see who it was as a young woman with red hair entered carrying a venti sized coffee. She apologized, placing the coffee in front of Maria Hill before hurrying out.

"Hill how many cups is that today?" Fury asked in surprise.

She paused in the middle of taking a drink. She mumbled out, "Four." With the coffee swallowed she said, "Hey! It's good. I found a new one."

"What's it called? Is it better than Dunkin Donuts?" Clint was immediately intrigued and walked over to her. "Can I taste it?"

Natasha put her head in her hand. "Clint!" She watched as he ignored her.

"It's great! It's called Caribou Stew. It's Canadian. Absolutely fantastic." Maria took off the top. "Try it. Only a taste, Barton."

Natasha, Fury, and Paige watched him with expressions varying from mild annoyance to absolute amusement. After he tried it and confirmed it was good, Fury shook his head. He turned to Paige.

"You can go to New York with these two. Shield has a few private jets you can take back." Fury then turned to the two agents. "Steve Rogers will be going back with you. Now that Avengers Tower is finished enough for you all to move in, the Council wants Cap there and Rumlow in charge of STRIKE team down here."

"What if I don't want to?" Paige asked suddenly. All eyes turned to her immediately. She clarified, "I just… Is it like a prison? Am I going to be locked up in the Tower like some kind of real life Rapunzel?"

Fury frowned. "Locked up is a strong word, Miss Wilson. If you continue illegal activities, then absolutely you'll be locked up somewhere. I bet Malick would love to get you into the labs. But I hope you'll participate willingly."

"You can meet Thor," Clint reminded her. Then he turned to Fury. "Malick can find another experiment. He's always been too obsessed with the enhanced." He crossed his arms.

Fury didn't disagree. "You get a month, Miss Wilson. Make it count."


	11. Chapter Eleven

_Make it count_ , Paige mused to herself.  _What the hell was that supposed to mean_?

Bundled up in Clint's extra coat to protect herself against a chilly October wind, Paige followed Natasha and Clint out of the Triskelion and, after a short walk, into another black Sedan. Natasha instructed the driver to take them to Reagan National Airport as she slipped into the passenger seat. Paige sat behind her, with Clint to her left. He sat texting Steve on his phone.

No one spoke. The drive took only about fifteen minutes. Paige glanced at the clock in the car as they pulled in front of the airport. 3:29. She looked up at the sky. Lots of cloud cover. With a frown, she opened her door and sidled out. Clint came around the back with his super-secret-briefcase-that-actually-held-a-bow contraption.

Both Natasha and Clint slipped on dark sunglasses. Paige rolled her eyes. That wasn't suspicious at all. Following behind them carefully, she kept her hands in the jacket pockets. If her hands stayed in the pockets, they couldn't hurt anyone. Or, she hoped that was true.

"Hungry?" Clint asked her five minutes later.

Paige looked at him, her eyebrows raising in question as she glanced around, trying to locate Natasha. She cocked. "Yeah. But where's Agent Romanoff?"

"Don't call her Agent Romanoff; it'll go to her head," Clint snorted. He gestured down the concourse. "She's off talking to security, letting them know we're here. We've got weapons and stuff so we don't go through regular channels. Plus we don't take commercial flights."

"I've not been on an airplane in like eight years," muttered Paige, folding her arms, hiding her hands.

Clint frowned. "I'll admit that I prefer trains. But planes are fine."

Glancing around, she gave a couple small nods. She bit her lip. "Okay, yeah. Yeah I'm hungry."

"Great!" Clint grinned. "There's this Italian restaurant - Il Viaggio - I looked it up on the car ride here. Looks good. I told Nat we'd be there, and Steve should join us soon."

"It'll be like a party," she muttered after him.

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Pea. Don't want to get left behind, right?"

"I don't know. I'm starting to miss the old life." She hurried after him though. Finally catching up, she strode beside him. "You look stupid with the sunglasses."

"And you look stupid with that jacket on," he bit back with a wink that she couldn't see.

She rolled her eyes. "Really? This is your jacket."

"Yeah but it looks good on me, that's the difference."

"Hey!"

They reached the little Italian restaurant. Brown and off white tiling offered a laid back color scheme. Clint and Paige grabbed a four person table as far back as they could - which wasn't far - and waited. A waiter brought them waters and menus.

As Paige reached for her water, a loud barking of a security dog erupted not far away. She flinched, grabbing her water and freezing it. Clint watched with trepidation. He gripped the table, remembering the ice Loki had been so fond of using.

"Oops," muttered Paige self consciously. She quickly heated it and melted the ice again.

Clint looked at her carefully. "So fear triggers it."

"Yeah, as I kinda already explained," Paige murmured. "I don't fully control it. It controls itself."

Clint didn't say anything. He just looked at her now normal water, lost in thought. But Paige watched him instead. She frowned.

"Yeah, I get it. I'm a freak," she muttered. "No need to stare at the water like it's going to combust."

He looked up at her in confusion. "What?"

"I'm scary, I know, trust me. Twenty-one years of experience has told me that." She stood from her table, visibly upset. Her hands were smoking like warm breath in cold air. "I'm going to wash my hands."

Clint watched her hurry off, taking a left down the concourse and disappearing from view. He muttered a few expletives under his breath and stood up to follow her, knocking over his water in the process. "Damn it, Clint."

Moments later, as he used a napkin to keep the water from soaking into his phone, Steve and Natasha showed up. They stopped chatting as they caught sight of him scrambling to pick up the spill.

"Where's Paige?" Natasha asked quietly.

Clint frowned and sat down in the chair, rubbing his forehead for a second. Instead of answering verbally, he responded in ASL. " _She startled, accidently used her magic to freeze her water, caught me staring, got mad and ranted about being a freak, left the restaurant."_

" _You good?"_  she signed back. " _Flashbacks again?"_

He shrugged. " _I'll be fine. We need to find her."_

Steve shook his head. "Listen I may not understand American Sign Language, but I can tell she's not here. We need to find her."

"Agreed," said Natasha. "Spread out. Stay on comms." She handed an ear piece to Steve and slipped one in her own ear. "Channel blue, Clint."

He pressed a few buttons on his right hearing aid. "Right."

"This is a contain and retrieve," Steve ordered. "Don't provoke her."

Clint rolled his eyes, "Obviously, Cap. Let's go." He left a twenty dollar bill on the restaurant table to cover the spill and the time, and joined the other three in the main concourse.

"She won't be able to get past security without a fight," Steve muttered.

"We don't know that she's trying to run," pointed out Natasha quietly as they surveyed the area. "She could be calming down somewhere."

"Nat check the restrooms. Down the concourse on the left," Clint suggested. "Steve, go around this corner to the right." He pointed to their right where a hallway to the parking garage went. "If she is running, that's a prime place." He paused. "I'll head to the escalator, take it up and get a look down from Ticketing."

Natasha nodded. She broke from the other two, walking calmly down the main concourse hall in the Pre-Security section. She glanced in every shop, watching for a blonde with a grey hat. She reached the first women's restroom. Natasha slipped inside, feigning a need to wash her hands and bypassing the line. It didn't make sense. Paige, if agitated, wouldn't purposefully go to a confined area with lots of people.

When Natasha left that restroom, she looked across the way.  _Family_  restroom. Single stall. Quiet, isolated, calm. She went across the way and knocked. Paige's voice floated through muffled, saying the room was occupied. "Paige, it's Agent Romanoff. I just want to chat."

A long moment past where nothing happened. Finally Natasha heard the click of the lock and opened the door slowly, nonchalantly. Paige sat on the closed toilet seat, head in her hands. One earbud hung down unused, the other in her ear. Natasha could just make out the song "Believer" by Imagine Dragons. She leaned against the door, locking it. Then she tapped her earpiece. "I got her. Stand down."

Paige shook her head. Her body shook. "Sorry."

"Just you and me now," Natasha told her, watching her carefully. "Are you safe to go back out? Or is the magic being unpredictable."

Paige shrugged, still shivering. "It reacts to my emotions. I got mad. It got mad. I had to get out of there." She frowned, unbidden tears in her eyes. She clenched her fists. "It wants to hurt something."

"Don't let it." Natasha left the door and crouched down in front of her. "Fight it. You can fight it."

"God," groaned Paige, throwing her head back in anger. "It's like a monster."

"You are not a freak," Natasha reminded her quickly, remembering what Clint had told her.

Paige glared. "Tell that to Agent Barton."

Natasha flashed a hint of a smile and shook her head. "No. Clint doesn't think you're a freak either. He's the only one who's had an up close and personal bad experience with magic."

"And yet SHIELD gave him the mission to find me?" With a frown, Paige looked at Natasha in confusion. "That's stupid."

"No, that's Clint for you. SHIELD allowed Clint to take the mission. He wanted to prove to everyone, including himself, that he was over what happened."

"He's not."

"Clearly."

Paige folded her arms. She looked down at her feet, focusing on the music playing in her earbud. She closed her eyes.

" _...Pain - You break me down, you build me up, believer, believer…"_

When she opened her eyes again, Natasha nodded at her. Together they stood up and Paige straightened her clothes. With a small nod, they both left the restroom. Natasha told the others to meet outside security for " **Terminal C".**

They stood in silence. When Clint and Steve arrived, Natasha quickly stared them into submission so they didn't make any comments. Instead she told them what she had discussed with security. "They're going to escort us to the SHIELD jet outside in about an hour. They said we can hang around in the terminal until then."


	12. Chapter Twelve

Their flight to New York's LaGuardia didn't take nearly as long as Paige worried it would. The plane was spacious; reclinable cream leather seats two to each side, five rows, with private televisions for each. Paige elected to sit by herself for the flight, chewing on some Dunkin' Donuts she'd gotten at the Terminal and watching Forrest Gump. Sometimes she looked over to see Clint and Natasha playing each other in Chess, or Steve reading his book. But for the most part she minded her own business until they touched down on the tarmac.

"Welcome to New York. Your luggage will be loaded into an SUV and driven to Avengers Tower. In the meantime, sit back and enjoy the drive to the gate," said the pilot over the PA system.

Paige clicked off her music. Forrest Gump had ended about twenty minutes before. She stretched her arms and looked out the plane window. Darkness greeted her, and a gentle rain pitter-pattered off the mulit-paned glass. The time on the clock in the plane read 8:42. She yawned.

When the plane came to a stop on the tarmac near one of the gates, they were allowed to leave via a tall set of removable stairs. Three large, black SUVs sat waiting for them. They were hurried into the middle one as the rain picked up. As the cars drove off, Paige quietly drifted off, head against the window of the SUV.

To Clint's tremendous relief, she woke up on her own as they arrived an hour later at Avengers Tower. As she came to, she noticed they pulled into a parking garage below ground. Dozens of sports cars lined the garage. The SUVs stopped at the end of the garage near what looked like an elevator.

The escort agents hopped out and opened the doors for their charges. Clint and Steve got out first, followed by Natasha. Finally Paige made her way out, climbing over a seat and looking around uncertainly. At first she didn't see anything other than sports cars.

"Capsicle and Legolas! And if it isn't Agent Romanoff. You came after all."

"Didn't have much of a choice, Stark."

Paige recognized the voice of Tony Stark immediately. She hesitated for a moment before deciding to walk around the SUV to see where he was. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stood beside the hood of the car.

"Well if it isn't the new kid on the block," said Tony with a smirk. "Welcome to the Tower, Rapunzel."

Clint cracked up at the nickname. "That's a good one. I like it. Rapunzel."

"Hilarious," Paige muttered. "I'm not going to be stuck in this tower, so no Rapunzel."

"Sorry, once I make a nickname there's no going back," Tony fake-apologized. He turned to the others. "Come on, Pepper's waiting upstairs."

They followed Tony into the elevator. Paige tuned out the conversation Tony gobbled on about with Natasha. He pressed "50" and the elevator quickly shot up. It took several minutes but at last the doors opened onto a large multi-level lounge area. The barking of a dog caused Clint to smile wide as they walked into the room.

"Hey, Lucky!" Clint knelt down as a large, hyper yellow lab burst past a few people and toppled Clint. He fell backwards. All his worries melted away for that brief moment.

"The mystery agent brought him over," Tony said, gesturing to Bobbi Morse who sat with Pepper on the couch, and across from them sat Bruce Banner. "Tall, blonde, and deadly over there."

"Tony, talk to Agent Morse nicely please," Pepper moaned from where she sat.

She chuckled. "Bobbi's fine. Really." Standing, she walked over with her martini in hand. "Hey Natasha."

"Bobbi." She nodded in reply. "Thanks for bringing Lucky over."

"Of course." Bobbi smiled down at the dog whose tail had yet to stop wagging a mile a minute. "I came over as soon as you texted."

"Hey guys," Bruce added with a wave. He put down his glass of water. "Been awhile."

"Bruce!" Steve joined him on the couch with Pepper. "Hey Pepper."

Pleasantries were all exchanged except for Paige. She stood leaning against the wall where the elevator opened. She just watched the exchanges quietly, content to have been forgotten.

But Natasha hadn't forgotten her. "This is Paige Wilson. She'll be joining us here for awhile at least." She turned and gestured to the young woman with the glass of whiskey that Tony had handed her from the mini bar. "She's enhanced."

"Welcome," replied Pepper with a nod. "We've got a guest floor ready for you to use until we can finish your own."

"Thanks," murmured Paige with a small, tight smile. She wandered over to the larger group apprehensively. They watched her expectantly, but she just hid her hands in Clint's oversized black jacket she had to remove and watched the room closely.

"Do you want a drink?" Bobbi asked, walking over to the minibar to get herself another martini.

She shook her head. "I don't drink."

As they all settled into couches and chairs, Lucky sitting at Clint's feet tail still going, talk turned to Paige and her relation to Thor. Paige didn't miss the shocked expressions that passed over everyone who hadn't already known and she smirked.

"Rapunzel's a goddess?" Tony cackled with a smirk a few minutes later after a drink.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Asgardian, Tony. Partially Asgardian."

"So who gets to tell Pointbreak we found his long lost cousin?" added Tony quickly, ignoring her correction.

"We need to find him first. We have no way of contacting him." Bruce frowned as he played with a cellphone in his hands. "Maybe we could find Dr. Foster? She knows more about Thor's technology than anyone else."

"Or Dr. Selvig?" suggested Pepper.

Bobbi shook her head. "Selvig's a dead end. He's in a mental hospital at the moment. I dropped him off a month ago after he was arrested for running around Stonehenge naked shouting apocalypse nonsense."

Clint frowned as they continued to shoot off ideas. He stared out the window at the large balcony that had been built off the lounge level of Avengers Tower. Lightning swirling around, thunder roared. But the rain had stopped. He stood from the couch and walked to the window.

"I think he's coming to us," he muttered to himself.

Moments later a bright flash of light and a roar sounded as the Bifrost. Clint stood right under the overhang outside the door on the balcony. He smirked.

"Hey man," said Clint as Thor looked around.

"Ah! Agent Barton. It has been too long," replied Thor as he took Clint's hand in his in a traditional warrior's handshake. "Heimdall told the Allfather that I was needed upon Midgard. What is the emergency?"

Clint gestured back inside. "Come on in. We need you to identify someone."

Thor followed him back inside. Everyone watched with varying degrees of surprise, wonder, and awe on their faces. Paige grasped the coat she wore close to her body, hiding herself as best she could. She couldn't risk the magic lashing out.

"We found a young woman, her name's Paige. But according to our tests she is part Asgardian, and related to you," he explained as he led Thor closer to the group. Stopping in front of them he gestured to her. "Do you know of any missing cousins of yours?"

"By the Allfather's beard," Thor murmured. "I cannot believe it."

Natasha perked up. "You recognize her?"

Thor didn't remove his eyes from her. "Yes of course! I know her sister. They call you Paige?"

"Or Rapunzel," Tony chipped in, before getting elbowed by Pepper. "Ow!"

"Yeah, I'm Paige." She stood up. "You said you know my sister? Who am I?"

Thor chuckled. He shook his head. "By the gods I cannot believe this. We have searched for you for years. Not just myself, but your father Od, and before that, Loki as well. They had legions of the Light Elves searching the cosmos for you. And yet here you are on Midgard of all places."

"Answer my question," Paige growled. "Who am I?"

"Pardon me," Thor apologized. "You do not understand. How could you. Growing up among these mortals. You are the Princess Hnoss, daughter of Lady Freyja, Queen of the Vanir, and Od, brother of Odin. You have a twin, a sister named Gersemi."

"That's how you recognize her," Steve realized.

Thor nodded. "They are identical in every way."

"Oh my god, she's literally a lost princess," Tony chuckled. "Rapunzel. I told you."

"Shut up, Tony," Natasha snapped. Then she turned back to Thor. "What do you know about how her powers work?"

"Powers?" He looked at Paige quickly. "Then the prophecies are true?"

Clint rolled his eyes. "Thor, we don't know the prophecies. Explain."

He nodded. "Before I do that, I'm quite hungry. Do you have any of the poptarts I had the last time I visited Midgard? They were delightful." He wandered around the room, looking at the lounge. "Is this a new room, Stark? It is impressive."

"The prophecies. Now." Paige got up from her seat, letting the jacket fall from her arms. She was done playing by the rules of this house. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now. "I'm not going to ask again."

Thor frowned but nodded. "I do not know them as well as the scholars on Asgard or Alfheim. But Freyja, your mother, is very powerful. In order to stop the war between her people, the Vanir, and mine, the Aesir, she married Odin's brother Od. You and your sister eventually became embodiments of that truce. But beyond that, it was said a piece of Freyja's heart and soul went in to each of you, to you and to Gersemi. To Gersemi went love, beauty, and charm. She has been considered the most beautiful of all the nobles in Asgard or Alfheim since coming of age."

"And into me?"

"Magic, war, and death. The two sides of Freyja, embodied by her two daughters." Thor munched on a cookie he found on the minibar. "I can only assume if you have strange power, that this is why." He turned to Tony. "These are good. Who crafted them?"

Paige didn't respond. She could feel the magic inside her willing its way out, clawing its way to the surface. With her back to the others, she closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Focus on the sounds around her. Too bad there weren't many. No one spoke. Suddenly she felt something brush up against her leg. She looked down. Lucky. A small smile crept onto her face and the darkness crept back down.

She pet Lucky softly. Finally she turned back to Thor. "Are my parents alive?"

"Freyja lives in Asgard," Thor told her, devouring the plate of cookies. "Od has been missing for years. He went looking for you and never returned."

Paige nodded to herself. She took a deep breath. Finally she turned around back to the others. They watched her intently, and even Tony sat silent. "Can I like, shower or something? I want to go to bed."

Tony got up. "Yeah, sure, I'll show you." He took a last drink of his whiskey and placed it on the table. Then he hurried up to her. "Come on Rapunzel."

She didn't protest. She just followed him quietly into the elevator and he pressed it for " **42** ". It started downwards. When they reached the guest floor, he explained to her that the floor was hers, and where the restroom and bedrooms were.

"If you need anything, just say "Hey Jarvis"," Tony told her, "He'll let you know what to do."

Paige nodded. With a quick thanks, she heard him leave back to the lounge. She could feel the magic again. Grabbing a towel and turning the shower on as cold as possible, she hopped inside and scrubbed herself clean. A good distraction. And then she went to bed.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

When Tony returned to the lounge, he found Bobbi Morse gone and the others mulling about. Natasha stood behind the mini bar, pouring herself more whiskey. With her was Clint and he signed a conversation to her so no one else could understand. Thor, Pepper, and Bruce were the only ones talking aloud, Steve quiet and sitting contemplatively.. But upon Tony's entrance, they looked over.

"She okay," Steve asked curiously. He sat back against his chair and took a drink from a water bottle.

Tony snorted, plopping himself down next to Pepper unceremoniously. "I really thought she was going to attack your, Thor."

Thor merely laughed. "She wouldn't." But when no one responded, everyone merely looking over to where Natasha and Clint still had their private discussion, he added, "She wouldn't would she?"

"Care to shine a light on that," Tony called over to the agents.

They turned to look at the others, Clint straightening up from where he had been leaning against the bar. Before responding he signed a last thing to Natasha, " _Do we have a right to tell them?"_

" _They have a right to know if she's living here what it is she's capable of."_

" _But should it come from us, or from her?"_

Natasha shrugged. " _She's an unknown. She was ready to attack Thor, you saw it too."_

" _Yeah, but she didn't."_

" _We need to talk to her about ground rules."_

Tony rolled his eyes and called over to them. "You're doing it again. Damn I really hate the super secret spy stuff."

Natasha chuckled behind a sip of her whiskey. She nodded to Clint, and he nodded back after a slight hesitation. The two of them rejoined the group, Clint standing behind Natasha as she took the last spot on the couch beside Tony.

"Yes, I think she was fully prepared to attack you, Thor," she told him a moment later. "She wanted answers."

Pepper frowned. "What exactly is she capable of?"

With a sigh, Clint shifted off his leather jacket and showed them the burn she had caused. "This was on accident. I startled her and she lashed out. Took about point five seconds to cause this kind of damage."

"On accident?" asked Bruce.

Clint nodded. "She's not fully in control of her power. She talks about the magic as if it's sentient, almost how you speak of the Hulk, Bruce. She says it enjoys fighting, and that sometimes she loses control." With a sigh, he put his glass of whiskey down on the coffee table and gestured with his hands. "When she fights, she acts on instinct. I saw the magic protect her during the fight I witnessed."

Bruce squirmed where he sat. "Sounds like the Hulk."

With a shrug and a nod, Clint agreed with him wholeheartedly. He fell quiet, lost in thought. After a moment, he wandered back to the minibar and pretended to pour himself another glass of alcohol. In reality he needed the space to clear his head. Instead, Natasha answered their questions.

"Is she dangerous?" Pepper asked quickly.

Natasha smirked. "That's a relative question, Pepper. We all are. She's not quite… unpredictable. Her powers are unstable to a certain extent. But she tries her best to control them when she wants to."

"Wants to," Thor muttered. "Magic is a dangerous thing. Unless properly trained in it, it can consume the wielder. And even then, it is a powerful tool that not all should wield. I have witnessed many fall to its charms."

"Loki used magic, didn't he," Tony muttered, suddenly growing all too serious. He brushed his finger over the top his glass.

Natasha frowned and went to respond, but Steve beat her to it. "From what I've seen, she's not like him."

"Not yet," Thor mused. "You said she was fully prepared to attack me, her kin. Perhaps the magic is corrupting her."

Natasha shook her head. "No. She's gotten used to using violence as a way to get answers. Just like I did. That doesn't mean she's like Loki." She turned back to Thor. "As for being related, she only just met you."

"Still we need to be careful," Bruce suggested. "If having that magic is anything like me and the Hulk, she's dangerous. A ticking time bomb. And we need to watch to see if she does end up like Loki too. His brain was a bag of cats."

Finally Clint had had enough of the speculation. He turned around from where he'd been standing at the minibar and crossed his arms. "She's not like Loki." He walked back over and avoided eye contact, hiding his jittery right hand behind his arms. "I've seen how Loki acts, up close and personal. This is entirely different." With a frown, he continued, "Half the time her own powers scare her. She may not see a problem with using lethal force at the moment, but we can show her otherwise." He paused. "Trust me. She wouldn't be here if I thought she was like Loki." With that, the room fell silent and Clint muttered, "I need some coffee."

"What does Fury want us to do with her," Tony asked after a quiet moment.

Natasha stood and helped Clint find coffee at the kitchenette on the other side of the lounge. As she walked after him, she replied to Tony. "Training. He wants her for the Avengers, but we have a month to assess her. If it doesn't work out, she goes back to the Triskelion for lab testing."

"That sounds terrible," Pepper muttered.

Clint hummed in agreement. "I wouldn't call it fun. They try to find what makes the enhanced tick. I've heard horror stories."

"We don't know how much of those stories are true, Clint," Natasha warned him. "Sometimes they find cures for them."

Bruce frowned. "Cures? In my experience government organizations would rather weaponize than cure." And Steve agreed with him immediately.

Thor, who had thus far sat uncharacteristically quiet, spoke up. "I will not demand that Paige return to Asgard immediately, but I will stay here until she does. She should return home soon."

"And if she doesn't want to?" Clint reminded him, walking back to the couches with a mug of black coffee in hand. "If you force the issue, she may lash out at this point."

"Then I shall stay here until she is ready!" Thor turned to Tony with a smile.

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, sure, why not. We actually did make a floor for you. So consider it yours."

They split for the night not long after. The only one to stay up was Clint. He faked going to his suite that Tony told him was on level forty, and instead stayed in the lounge with Lucky drinking his coffee until ungodly hours of the morning. It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep, he just couldn't.

Around four thirty in the morning, just as he started to drift off on the couch with Lucky on his stomach, Tony came into the room. At first the billionaire didn't notice him. Instead he made straight for the minibar and poured himself a glass of red wine. Clint forced himself to stay awake despite his exhaustion.

Tony turned when he heard shuffling on the couch. "Why are you up!"

"Was about to ask you the same thing," Clint muttered, pushing Lucky to the other end of the couch as he sat up.

"I was hungry," Tony defended himself, pointing to the tray of crackers he'd picked up from behind the bar.

Clint huffed. As he went to respond, the elevator opened and they both turned to see who it was. Paige stood and walked into the room, freezing in her step when she saw Tony and Clint at the couches.

"Hey," Clint sent a tight smile her way. "Want some coffee?"

Paige glanced from Clint to Tony and back. She pointed to the balcony. "I'm going to go outside."

"Okay," Clint nodded. But he frowned at her white tank top. "It's almost November in New York. Take the coat." He picked up the one she'd let fall earlier off the floor and held it out to her.

Paige made a face but relented, letting her crossed arms fall to her side. She walked over and took the coat. As she walked towards the balcony, she turned back. "If you make coffee, I'll have some." Then she walked outside.

With a yawn, Clint stood from the couch and walked to the kitchenette. "Coffee?" he asked Tony.

Tony shook his head. "No, I'm good." After a pause, he continued, "You trust her, then?"

Clint stopped what he was doing. He closed his eyes as he waited for the coffee to start dripping. Then he turned and looked at Tony, crossing his arms. "Yeah. Yeah I think I do."

"She's dangerous."

"We all are, Tony." He frowned, staring at the ground. When the pot had finished filling up, he grabbed two mugs and filled them. "We need to get her clothes. What she's wearing is all she's got."

Tony nodded. "Right. I'll send Happy down to Midtown to pick some up tomorrow." He took another drink of his wine and sighed. Laying back, he looked out the floor to ceiling windows to the balcony. He watched her just standing there, leaning on the railings in the darkness. Then he turned back to Clint. "What's her deal, beyond the powers?"

"She's not told us much," he admitted. "Based on her reactions when I contacted her, someone or some group has been after her for a while though. She was insisting I was there to kill her."

Tony's eyebrows scrunched in concern. "Like, what?"

"SHIELD isn't the only secret organization," Clint warned him as he moved to the door to the balcony. As he walked out into the cold, a gust of wind made it that much worse. But he had to admit that the view made up for it. "Here," he said to Paige. "Coffee. I put some mocha in yours."

"Thanks," said Paige with a quick smile. She took it gratefully and sipped it. "Pretty good. Clearly Mr. Stark knows where to get the good stuff," she joked half heartedly.

Clint nodded with a smirk. He turned and leaned backwards against the railing. "Thor said he's not going to force you back to Asgard, if you're concerned about that. We still need this month to evaluate your skills and where you'd fit on the team anyways."

"I need to apologize to him," she muttered. "He was just taking so  _long_. I wanted answers."

Clint laughed and sipped his coffee with a smile. "I feel like Thor does that a lot. He likes to talk."

Paige turned around in surprise as the balcony door opened and Tony joined them. He held a mug of coffee as well. With a smirk, Clint sipped his before saying, "I thought you didn't want coffee, Stark?"

"Yeah, well, yours smelled good," Tony replied. "I feel like your caffeine addiction is going to take over this Tower with you moving in, Clint."

"Oh please, you're not already addicted?"

Tony smirked. "Not to coffee."

"So what are you doing out here in the cold," asked Clint humorously.

"This is my Tower," reminded Tony. Then he shrugged. "Figured why not."

Clint chuckled. "Did you feel left out?" He grinned as Paige laughed at the comment. "Most people don't think I'm funny. Maybe you will fit in." He gestured to her and then to Tony. "He's annoying. Just get used to it."

"Again, my Tower," Tony quipped. Then he looked at Paige again. "What kind of SHIELD agent is this guy anyhow. More like a walking human disaster."

"Accurate," Clint muttered behind his mug.

Paige shrugged. "I was just surprised he didn't try to kill me. That puts him higher in my books than most people I meet with weapons and special super suits." She looked over the city and took a drink of her coffee.

Tony glanced at Clint before pushing the issue. "How many people went after you?"

"Somebody, or maybe multiple groups, sent in operatives against me. I remember a couple clearly who got away- guy with a metal arm, woman with blonde hair and way too skilled at hand to hand to not be enhanced. I only escaped the metal guy thanks to another archer." She smiled at Clint. "She was damn good."

Tony smirked. "Whoa whoa, a female version of this guy?" He laughed and pat Clint on the back. "That makes her better."

"You're telling me she used arrows?" Clint looked at her in surprise, ignoring Tony. "What was her name?"

"I only know her first name. Kate." Paige shrugged. "Like I said. She's good."

Clint scoffed. "When was this?"

"About a month after the Battle of New York. When you were all in hiding according to the news. She started gallivanting around here." But Paige shook her head. "I don't know any more. She saved my life, though. Or saved me a lot of pain. Still, I wish I could've killed that agent who they sent after me."

"How many did you kill?" Tony asked cautiously.

Paige shrugged. "I've killed a lot of people. Bad people."

"Well, we're going to try to do things without deadly force," Clint told her quietly. "Think you can handle the challenge?" He smirked at her behind his mug.

Paige narrowed her eyes. "Of course I can."

"Good. Because we start your training tomorrow."

"Not today?"

Clint scoffed. "Please, Pea. Today we get you clothes so you stop stealing my jacket."

With a quick laugh, she looked down at herself. The oversized coat contrasted with her plain clothing which she had worn for two days straight, going on three. He wasn't wrong. She definitely needed clothes.


	14. Chapter 14

When Natasha walked into the Lounge at six that morning, she found Clint draped over the couch with Lucky on his stomach. Tony had fallen asleep in a chair next to him. Three cups of coffee which had been drunk to varying degrees sat on the table. When she heard the balcony door open, Natasha glanced over to find Paige heading back inside.

"Good morning," Natasha said to her as she came inside.

As soon as she'd spoken the words, Lucky leapt up from Clint's stomach, digging his claws into him, and tore over to Natasha. His tail wagged a mile a minute. Startled into wakefulness, Clint ripped a gun from his pocket and pointed it at Natasha. Paige raised her arms across her chest defensively but Natasha didn't flinch except for a frown that went all the way to her eyes.

"Shit! Nat," heaved Clint breathlessly as his hand started to shake and he dropped the gun down. By now Tony had woken up from the commotion. "God, don't - ugh." He stood and turned away, grabbing at his chest. He moved behind the couch. Lucky ran over to him and he closed his eyes at the gentle nudge the dog gave his legs. His support.

"Wha… the hell," muttered Tony as he yawned and stretched. He looked between Natasha and Clint. "We good, guys?"

Clint turned and nodded. "Yeah, we're fine. I've got to take Lucky on a walk." He glanced at Natasha briefly before turning back to Tony. "Can you get Paige situated with clothes like we talked about."

"Yeah, yeah. Of course." Tony let his gaze linger on Clint for a moment longer before turning to Paige. "What do you like to wear?"

"Clothes," she deadpanned.

Tony paused, and then he rolled his eyes. "Hilarious. Come on. I think Steve wanted to head down to Barnes and Noble this morning." He paused and glanced up at the ceiling. "Hey Jarvis, where's Steve?"

" **Captain Rogers is currently in the work out room on level sixty-one."**

"Put me through, J."

" **Of course."**

"Steve, do you still want to head to the bookstore? Natasha wants us to get clothes for Paige." Tony waited for Steve's response, crossing his arms over his chest.

After a moment, he responded. "Yeah. What time?"

Tony glanced at his phone. "Leave in an hour?"

"Right."

Tony thanked Jarvis and turned back to the room. "Have fun with Lucky," he said, noticing Clint trying to sneak out the elevator. "Where are you taking him?"

"We usually go to Bryant Park," Clint replied. At those words, the dog started running in circles. Clint grinned. "Yeah guess we're going there." He crouched down and spoke to Lucky. "Gimme a minute! I've got to change."

They took the elevator to Clint's floor, leaving Natasha, Tony, and Paige in the main room. The foremost of the three turned to Tony in question. "Do you have food in this tower, or just alcohol?"

Tony laughed. "Only the best. Though with Thor here we might need to stock up on poptarts. There's a bigger kitchen one floor down. Stairs are over there to the right. I'll join you in a bit."

Paige smirked. "I'd say I would go change, but…"

The dramatic expression of pretend irritation that crossed Tony's face made Natasha smirk right alongside Paige. She turned to the other woman. "Let's go find breakfast. I might need help finding food in Tony's mess."

"Natasha Romanoff needing help?" Tony countered as he hopped into the elevator. "That's a first."

Natasha bit right back. "I need all the help I can get to understand you, Stark." When the elevator doors closed and Tony disappeared, she turned back to Paige. "Come on." She led the way to the fancy stairs down. One side opened to the glass panels of windows.

Paige looked out at the New York City skyline. She had spent time here once in awhile, but she had never seen it from his vantage point before. Pausing briefly, she stared out the window and watched a flock of pigeons fly from one nearby building to another.

Natasha folded her arms and looked at her. "You know, I bet Tony's food is crap. There's a nice bakery about a block down the street. We should head there."

Brightening up, Paige turned her way. "Ok."  _Freedom._

As Natasha texted Tony about where they were going, they took the elevator from the kitchen down to the ground floor lobby. A large man with dark hair stood chatting with a young blonde woman behind a reception desk.

"Agent Romanoff," said the man in surprise as he saw them leave the elevator. "Mr. Stark didn't tell us you were coming in last night!"

Natasha smiled. "There's probably a lot Tony doesn't tell you, Happy." She turned to Paige as they walked over to the doors and were met by him. "This is Paige Wilson. She's enhanced, and is staying with us in the Tower. Thor's here, by the way."

Happy Hogan's expression stayed neutral, but Paige saw him sigh. "Clearly there's a lot I need to catch up on." He turned to Paige. "Welcome to the Tower Ms. Wilson. If you'll excuse me, I need to ask Jarvis what else it is I don't know." He left them and said something to the receptionist.

The weather wasn't too bad as they walked out into the bustling city. Sunny, blue skies, with only a bit of wind. Paige thanked whatever was listening that her ripped up jean jacket was enough to keep her warm. She followed Natasha to the left. She knew immediately who was a tourist and who lived in New York, and she did her best to emulate the New Yorkers. Walk in a straight line, don't stop to see the sights, stick to the right, single file, keep the pace. She knew city etiquette.

They hopped left and into a bakery about a block from the tower. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg that floated through the air made Paige pause in the doorway and smile. A cinnamon crunch muffin caught her eye in the bakecase and she got in line with Natasha.

"What would you like?" Natasha asked her as they stood a few customers back, speaking over the drone of the chatter in the cafe.

Paige pointed out the muffin, "And could I have a mocha?"

"Sure."

Once they ordered, they were given a little wooden spoon sign with the number "8". Paige grabbed a table by the window and they sat down. She looked around. The cafe, called simply " **COFFEE** ," felt warm with its wood decor. Paige liked it.

Natasha took out her phone and answered a text before putting it down. She followed Paige's gaze around the place with a small smile. "Clint found this place a few years back."

A waitress put their food down in front of them. Paige instantly grabbed her mocha latte and settled back into her chair. "Why does that not surprise me," chuckled Paige from behind a sip.

Natasha nodded. "I have a feeling he googled "coffee" after a mission and this was the first result."

"It's a nice place though," Paige added.

They ate quietly for a few minutes. Natasha seemed to be very popular based on the number of texts she was getting. After the fifteenth notification, Paige finally mentioned it. "You're popular?"

Natasha sighed vocally. "Tony made a group chat."

Paige perked up and grinned. "That actually sounds amazing. Who's in it?"

"Steve, Bruce, Tony, Clint, and myself. Thor doesn't have a phone. You want in?" Natasha watched her, a smile growing as she saw the young woman's enthusiasm. "Forewarning, any time Clint and Tony get together there is a lot of talking."

"From what little I've seen this doesn't surprise me." Paige paused, her smirk growing. "I'm in."

Natasha shook her head. "Fine. But I warned you." Sending a quick text to the chat, she then added in Paige's phone number.

They got up to leave, meaning Paige didn't have time to look at the chat. Her choice of muffin had been absolutely perfect, and she decided then and there that Clint and Natasha both definitely had good taste in coffee.


	15. Chapter 15

As they reached the lobby of Avengers Tower, Tony and Steve exited the private elevator simultaneously. Both wore simple jeans, but where Tony’s dark shirt displayed The Clash’s logo in all its red glory covered by a shiny black leather jacket, Steve had opted for simple white shirt and brown jacket.

 

“C’mon,” Tony gestured to the door with his sunglasses in hand. “We’re heading out.” As Paige thanked Natasha for breakfast, he made small talk with the receptionist. Then he turned to Natasha. “Happy seemed a little perturbed when I talked to him today. He seems to think I’m keeping secrets from him?”

 

“Oh, well, I may have implied that,” replied Natasha with a smile as she walked into the elevator. “Bye, Tony.” The doors closed.

 

Tony snorted. Shaking his head with a small smirk, Steve gestured to the door. Paige, however, made no effort to hide her smirk and Tony didn’t miss it. As they stood before the glass doors into the wide urban jungle, he slipped on his sunglasses and nodded.

 

The walk to the storefronts took a lot longer than to the coffee shop. They passed at least four blocks before coming upon Steve’s store of choice. Paige watched him in amusement as his eyes lit up in excitement and he grinned. Tony just shook his head.

 

“Do either of you want anything,” Steve asked as they stood by the door. 

 

Paige paused. “I don’t think I’ve read a book since like my second year of highschool,” she sheepishly admitted. Downcasting her eyes, she turned to go with Tony.

 

“Now you can’t just walk away having said that,” Steve argued. “C’mon Tony, even you could find something in here. Coffee, if nothing else.”

 

“You know he’d never forgive me if I tore you away from here,” joked Tony. He nodded. “Fine. I think they wanted me in for a STEM day anyways. I can talk to the management about that.”

 

The gold and green  **“BARNES AND NOBLE”** sign that hung above the door contrasted with the pale pavement bricks of the building itself. Steve swung open one of the glass doors and they walked in quietly. Paige nearly laughed when on their octagonal display in the opening sat a picture book with a child Tony Stark drawing an Iron Man suit.

 

“Oh my goodness.” Paige laughed, walking over to it. “This is amazing. Do you all have picture books now?” She picked it up and showed it to Tony. In a high pitched voice, she mocked, “Hi, I’m Tony Stark and I’m a Genius! Let me show you how to be a genius too!”

 

“Y’know, once you get your face on a picture book, then you can mock me.” Tony rolled his eyes but a tiny smile pulled across his face. “C’mon. Let the ancient guy look around for a bit. I’m going to grab coffee. Want anything?”

 

She shrugged with a smile, putting her hands in her jean jacket pockets. Falling into step with him, she nodded. “I heard about this new frappuccino, a Mocha Cookie Crumble. Starbucks was always too expensive. If I managed to steal enough money for a Frappe, the money would be better served going towards new clothes or shoes.”

 

“Mocha Cookie Crumble it is.” He took off his sunglasses and whipped out a Starbucks card. Once at the counter he ordered her a venti and himself a grande dark roast coffee. “Clint has me in a coffee mood again. Never should have let him back in the Tower,” he joked to Paige after he paid. 

 

Paige huffed in amusement, her arms folded across her chest. Their drinks didn’t take long and soon they wandered around the bottom floor, Paige not entirely sure what she expected to find. She didn’t even know what she liked to read. A new releases table caught her eye.

 

“I Am Malala.” She murmured out loud, picking up the book with Malala Yousafzai on the cover. “Now she’s a hero as much as the rest of us.”

 

Tony hummed in agreement. “I met her once. It was UN gathering.”

 

“I would’ve slaughtered every one of her attackers,” hissed Paige angrily. “They would’ve died painfully.”

 

“Okay, let’s not talk about  _ that  _ in the middle of a bookstore,” Tony reminded her. “And with the Avengers, we don’t go seeking out murder. That’s what  _ will  _ get you locked in the Tower, Rapunzel.”

 

Paige glared down at the book for a moment more, then set it back down quickly. “Fine. Fine. We play it your way. But my way would mean it doesn’t ever happen again.” Straightening up, she frowned and looked around. “Any suggestions?”

 

“There’s this one. It just came out.” Tony handed her another book off the table. Orange, with an astronaut on the cover. 

 

Looking at it skeptically, Paige took it from him. “The Martian?”

 

“Supposed to be really good,” Tony replied with a shrug. “I want to read it.”

 

She pursed her lips. “Alright then. The Martian it is.” 

 

They looked around for Steve. By now a good number of customers had entered the store. Paige was eager to leave and buy some clothes. Though she appreciated that the bookstore was a calm beacon amidst the insanity of Manhattan, she wanted back out into the insanity. Outside meant only a step from true freedom.

 

Tony tracked Steve down on the second floor. They paid and left the store not long after, though Tony did take a few minutes to speak to the management about organizing a day for him to come in and help with the kids for a STEM promotion day. By now stores lined the streets, and it didn’t take long to stop in a few.

 

Besides all the necessary undergarments, they got her some band tees, a few pairs of jeans, black ankle boots, an overly large Hello Kitty sweatshirt that she insisted on, and Tony’s favorite, an extremely expensive black leather jacket. He explained that every person needs a leather jacket of some sort, and this one just looked right on her.

 

“Thank god you’ve got money,” Paige muttered as they bought the jacket and several pairs of black skinny jeans. “I’d hate to see the bill on this.”

 

Tony laughed it off, opening the door for them to leave. But it was Steve who replied for him, “Tony may be a billionaire but he does spread his money well.” He looked at the many shopping bags held between the three of them. “I think this is about all we can carry.”

 

“Ah quit being modest, Cap,” joked Tony. “We know you could carry all of this yourself.”

 

Paige scoffed. “Yeah. And he’d take out half the sidewalk doing it.”

 

“Might be entertaining.”

 

“Tony!” Steve chuckled and shook his head. “Come on. The others are expecting us for lunch.”

 

“Oh?” Paige looked at him in confusion. There hadn’t been any plans that she’d known of.

 

Tony laughed. “We did add you to the new group chat!”

 

Shifting all her bags to her left hand, she pulled out her phone and checked the texts. Apparently Clint had found a new italian place on his walk with Lucky that he wanted to try. Someone had gotten Thor a phone, and he’d quickly figured out the texting mechanism much to Paige’s amusement. She wasn’t sure what to think of him yet, but so far she sensed through the text she saw that Clint had a high opinion of him. For some reason that made her feel better about him.

 

“Come on, Paige,” Tony called back as they darted out into the sidewalk. 

 

She quickly followed them so as not to get separated. Getting back to the tower took longer than expected due to the lunch rush from workers rushing to and fro. When they finally did get back, Paige took the bags to her room with Steve’s help and changed into her white Hello Kitty hoodie and a pair of black jeans. She spent some time looking at her new book. It pleased her to no end that she had a bed again that she could rest on.

 

**“Miss Wilson, your presence is requested in the Lounge for lunch,”** JARVIS said.

 

“Oh, thanks!” She slipped on her boots, tying them up as quickly as she could. Grabbing her phone from it’s charger she hurried out of her bedroom, down the hall, and to the elevator. Paige pressed the button labeled “ **L** ”.

 

When the doors opened to the lounge, Lucky, exuberant as ever, greeted her eagerly. On the couch, Natasha and Clint sat comparing something on their cellphones. Two large brown bags sat on the table. Paige walked over to them.

 

“Right, we’re eating down here,” said Steve, coming up the stairs from the kitchen. He paused at the top and gestured down. “Tony’s getting it set up.”

 

They all followed him down the stairs to the kitchen and dining room. The majority of the decor was either white, grey, or tan. Paige liked it. It was simple, modern. A large table seating ten stood near floor to ceiling windows and a massive kitchen lined the other side of the room. On the island they set the food, pulling seven large take out containers from the brown bags and spreading them out. Bruce and Thor came into the kitchen not long after. 

 

“These Midgardian delicacies smell delicious!” Thor commented as he approached the counter where Natasha and Steve prepared them. “Earth really is quite a jewel in the cosmos.”

 

“A jewel in the cosmos,” Steve repeated with a small smile and a nod. “Not a bad name.”

 

Paige laughed. “A jewel with a lot of flaws, maybe.” She grabbed her plate from the counter and served herself some pasta and breadsticks. With a quick glance around, Paige wondered where she should sit. She hadn’t interacted much with Dr. Banner or Thor. 

 

Natasha gestured with her head for Paige to come over next to her and Clint on their side of the table. As they all sat down to eat, clinking of silverware and chewing prevailed over small talk. Thor heartily enjoyed the meal, perhaps more than anyone else. He went back for seconds soon after the first course.

 

“This is pretty good,” Bruce commented. “Where’d you find it, Clint?”

 

Clint finished a bite and nodded. “Lucky and I stumbled on it while on a walk.”

 

“It’s nice to not have pizza,” added Natasha with a small smirk at Clint. She took another bite of her ravioli. “Not that your constant pizza habit isn’t a true feat in and of itself.” With his laugh in response, she smirked again.

 

“So you got clothes today,” Bruce asked Paige a few moments later. “Hopefully Tony wasn’t too obnoxious.”

 

“Oh please,” protested Tony, “me, obnoxious?”

 

Paige shook her head. “It was fine. It’s definitely nice to have a full wardrobe of clothes. My stuff in DC was pretty ratty. Definitely not worth bringing up here.” 

 

“I find Midgardian clothes to be incredibly comfortable,” Thor added. “In Asgard, tunics can become wearisome. These sweatshirt things you have here are relaxing.”

 

Bruce agreed with him. Turning back to Paige, he added, “Did you find clothes you liked, or just what Tony thought you’d look good in?”

 

Paige laughed. “No, no. I made sure I got stuff I liked.” She looked down at the massive Hello Kitty face on her sweatshirt. “Yeah, no, it’s good.”

 

“She has decent style for a street rat. But then, if you didn’t like my choices, you can always be like Clint and wear your own Avengers merchandise once it comes out,” Tony said smartly.

 

Clint looked down at his shirt. White with a multicolored simplified target in the center, he merely shrugged in response. “I like my merch.”

 

“And remember, I wasn’t always a “street rat” as you said!” She got up and helped herself to a few more servings. “I grew up in foster care. So I had normal clothes.”

 

“How many homes were you placed in, Paige,” asked Bruce. His curiosity had been peaked.

 

With a small frown, she paused where she stood at the counter. As she held the spoon for the pasta, she froze. “Seven.”

 

Clint watched her. He knew a bit of what she had gone through, for he had gone through similar. He and his brother had been in foster care for years before they ran away and joined a traveling circus. It hadn’t been an easy life.

 

When she finally turned back to them, tears were in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. Paige sat down. Suddenly her food became the most important thing in the entire room. Conversation turned away from Paige and towards various other matters. 


End file.
